Kingdom Hearts: The Stuff of Heroes
by Script Savage
Summary: Honor. Courage. Strength. These are the qualities of a hero. A devestating evil has emerged, threatening all that Sora and his friends hold dear. Will they be able to stop it before all is lost? Stand firm, Wielder. This is where the end begins. **TEMPORARY HIATUS**
1. Severed Starlight

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Alright everyone, I'm feeling really good about the rewrite of _Kingdom Hearts: The Stuff of Heroes._ I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it.**

**Here we go!**

_**Chapter I: Severed Starlight**_

_**Sora**_

__It's a strange thing, when home doesn't feel like home.

It's hard to do, because there's a little less of me coming back. After all, I'm only human. There's only so much I can give.

But, isn't that what makes a hero a hero? The ability to dig deeper and push harder than anyone else, to power though the pain and the suffering and keep fighting the good fight when fear and self-preservation instincts send everyone else running for the hills?

I think it does.

Staring into the listless, rolling blue waves of the Destiny Sea does absolutely nothing for the paper in my hand that's making home feel more like _hotel_.

It isn't a place to rest, to throw off the weight of the day and be surrounded by the people I love. It's become a place to snatch a few night's rest before throwing myself back into the thick of it.

At least that's how it feels.

Because something's off.

Despite the fact that Riku and I have just saved the worlds _again, _something isn't right.

The thick piece of paper between my fingers is like a lead weight, as heavy and taxing as the sense of duty that commands me to heed the words written on the page.

I pore over the contents again, because if I do this, it means leaving Kairi after I _promised _her that I wouldn't.

_ I wanted to tell you right away,_

_ About memories from the past that sleep within you._

_ About the pieces that will tie you to your future._

_ Sora, Riku, Kairi,_

_ The truth behind the Keyblade,_

_ has found its way through so many people,_

_ and now I know that it rests in your hearts._

_ Sora, You are who you are because of those people,but they're hurting, _

_ and you're the only one who can end their sadness. They need you._

_ It's possible that all your journeys so far,_

_ have been preparing you for this great new task that's waiting for you._

_ I should have known that there were no coincidences,_

_ only links in a much larger chain of events._

_ And now, the door to your next journey is ready to be opened._

_ -Mickey _

My first thought is: _Kairi's going to kill me._

Followed immediately by: _But, I have to go._

The urge to crumble the paper into a ball, or rip it to shreds, and cast it into the sea is almost overpowering. It isn't that I'm not_ grateful_ to the king, or anything, I am. I'm indebted to him more deeply than I can every repay. It's just...

Would it kill him to speak English, rather than slapping a few lines of poetry down on a page, saying some cryptic stuff about my 'next great task,' and calling it a day?

As much as it annoys me that I'm going to have to leave Kairi _again_, despite my promise, despite everything we've been through, I also know that I can't just abandon the people who need my help.

One thing's for sure though: these people I'm rescuing, whoever they are, had better be _damn_ grateful when I get to them.

I glance over my shoulder at Riku who's leaning against the shack on the other side of the bridge, and then down the beach to where Kairi's sitting at the water's edge, letting the surf lap at her heels.

It's almost painful to look at her—her beauty in the evening light is absolutely stunning, but that's not the only reason I love her.

Yeah, I said it.

_I love Kairi_.

She's just so pure and kindhearted and sweet and a whole host of other things. She's not afraid to speak her mind, and she's always ready to help someone in need. She's so like me in that respect, she'll a great Keyblade wielder someday.

But it won't be today.

Because I couldn't live with myself if she got hurt because of me.

This feels like one of those moments that I'm going to regret for the rest of my life, like the exact moment that I'll pinpoint ten or twenty or thirty years from now—assuming I'm still alive then—and I'll say to myself: _You should have told her_.

And even though I know that, I won't tell her. After all, it'd just be cruel to tell her _I love you, but I'm leaving you because you're not my top priority right now._ It wouldn't be that harsh, but she sees through my sugar-coating so easily, and since that's essentially what I'd be telling her, that's how she would take it.

At least I can trust Riku to take care of her. The two of us are brothers in all but blood. We've known each other practically since birth, and our bond has only been strengthened by the unifying connection forged by battle and bloodshed.

Part of me wonders how he'll feel about all this, thought he'll most definitely take it better than Kairi.

Because he gets it.

Because once-upon-a-time, he had to make his own journey, had to face his own inner demons, and none of us could help him. It was painful to watch but he became that much stronger because of it.

It still haunts him, though. I can see it in his eyes, and the way that he carries himself that he doesn't believe that he was entirely successful in his endeavor to conquer the darkness within himself.

But we've all got our own burdens to bear.

The weight of my decision is crushing as I turn to Riku and nod. _It's time._

Riku nods in return and motions to Kairi to join us as he crosses the bridge to the base of the Paopu tree.

My heart is suddenly in my throat as Kairi starts making her way over to us; my guts are boiling with anxiety and fear, and I have to take a minute to make peace with my life, in case she does in fact decide to murder me for breaking my promise.l

"Your mind's made up." Riku says. It isn't a question.

"Yeah." The cold hard fact of it is impossible to ignore.

And then Kairi arrives, and the world is suddenly off-kilter, out of joint, and I find myself praying that this is all just a bad dream, that I'm going to wake up and actually have a chance to _be_ with Kairi.

But it isn't.

This is real.

And no amount of wishing will change that.

I force myself down off the bent trunk of the Paopu tree and turn to her.

Her violet eyes are so patient, so full of life, her lips pressed together in that strange purgatory between _smile_ and _frown _and she flashes me a quick, private smile that's just for me because she knows me like that. Because she knows how hard this is for me.

I try to smile back, but I can't. _I can't do this..._ I have to force the words past the sudden lump in my throat. "Kairi..."

Kairi just nods encouragingly.

"It's just...they really need me. I have to go."

Kairi gets that worry-crease between her eyebrows, but doesn't say anything.

"I am who I am, because of them."

Kairi dips her head and sweeps her auburn tresses away from her face, and then she's pressing something into my hand.

I can tell by the feel of it that it's her good luck charm, and somehow, that makes this so much harder, because even though I'm breaking my promise, even though, by all rights, she should be absolutely furious with me, she isn't.

Despite all this, she's still making sure that _I'm_ okay.

"See you soon." She says.

I can't respond. The warm softness of her skin on mine is too distracting. _We're holding hands..._

Too late, I realize that something is streaking towaIrd my face, and whatever-it-is sort of resembles Kairi's hand...

_Crack_!

The left side of my face is on fire, stinging and smarting at twitching as I realize that Kairi just slapped me.

"You promised!" Kairi's voice is equal parts hurt and indignation; her porcelain features are flushed with rage, and suddenly her fist is rocketing toward me.

_Oh, shit._

The impact is a burst of white flame, accompanied by the realization that, despite being so small and delicate looking, Kairi can throw a punch like nobody's business.

The blood trickles down my chin and into my mouth and the taste of it turns my stomach so that I have to fight to keep my cookies down.

Riku steps behind Kairi, looking _way_ too amused by all of this as he holds Kairi back from beating me senseless.

"You promised we'd be together every day, Sora. And now you're just gonna _leave_? Just like that? You'd better have a _damn_ good reason for this!" She raves.

I don't blame her at all for her anger, and I'll freely admit that I deserve whatever unspeakable things she's planning on doing to me. I'm not even worried about what'll happen to her if she actually _does_ end up killing me, because I'm pretty sure that she'd get off the hook after some crocodile tears and that beautiful smile of hers.

"It's okay," I say, once my brain has stopped rattling around inside my skull. "Let her go, Riku."

Kairi deserves a chance to vent her frustrations—what I'm doing to her is hardly fair by any stretch of the imagination.

Riku doesn't verbalize any opinions, but his face clearly says: _It's your funeral..._

As soon as Riku let's go, Kairi charges me again, and I can't help but tense for the flurry of blows she will undoubtedly unleash.

But, instead of beating me senseless, she seizes my jacket and pulls me close, her skinny arms winding around my torso in a desperate, almost painful embrace.

I'm definitely not complaining about being hugged by the girl of my dreams, but part of me is still wondering if she'll take advantage of our closeness and wreak havoc on my family jewels.

I wrap my arms around Kairi, holding her tightly as Riku waves and heads back across the bridge, toward the beachfront café in the distance.

Kairi's slender frame is trembling, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps and there's moisture soaking through my shirt.

The realization that she's crying kills me, and I rest my chin on the top of her head, reveling in the intoxicating scent of her cranberry tresses, the warm suppleness of her skin, and the way she she just _fits_ against me.

And then she mumbles something into my shirt.

"Hmm?" I mutter, unwilling to move away from her right this second.

"I said, 'I'm sorry'. I didn't mean to hurt you. Are you okay?" Kairi clarifies as she pulls away, sniffling.

I can't help the grin that splits my face; even though she was ready to tear me limb from limb a few moments ago, now she's worried about _me_. Her selflessness worries me sometimes—she doesn't worry about herself enough.

"No worries. I'll live." I tell her, so she doesn't worry.

"I really _am_ sorry, Sora." Kairi rests her head on my chest. "It's just...When you were gone...it was awful. I couldn't handle it. I had no idea if you were alright, if you were safe...Hell, I didn't even know if you were _alive._ And so I waited, and I waited, praying to gods that it wouldn't just be Riku coming back. That I wouldn't have to sit here when he told me you were dead..." She's crying in earnest now, but she presses on. "I knew that if you did die, you'd go down fighting, for the greater good, making sure everyone had their best chance to live a happy life...I can't go through that again. Please...don't do this to me."

I don't know how to counter that, so I just hold her tighter, trying to apologize for the hell I put her through while I was gone.

Kairi pulls back to thrill me with her beautiful violet eyes. She's so close, and the temptation to kiss her is overwhelming. It would be so easy, just lean down and..."Let me come with you." she proposes.

"No." My response is as reflexive as breathing. I refuse to be responsible allowing her to get involved in something that could very easily result in her death. Her safety comes before mine.

Every time.

Even if she hates me for it.

"Bastard," Kairi snaps, shoving away from me.

I reach out and grab her shoulders, because she needs to hear the reason behind my refusal. "Let me explain."

Kairi stares at me with an almost-angry _I'm listening_ expression.

"There are things that happened out there. Things I had to go through, that I wouldn't wish on anyone. I don't want you to suffer like I did. And you won't. Not while there's breath left in me, and not while I have the power to make sure that you never know that pain." I've said too much, dredged up memories that are better left buried, but she needs to hear it.

Kairi's worry-crease is back and she reaches out to trail her fingers over my cheek. "What is it, Sora? What happened to you?" Her perceptiveness hasn't failed her here.

I'd rather die a thousand deaths, rather face a thousand clones of Organization XIII in pitched combat, than I would suffer again the emotional agony I suffered in the Maw.

I take a deep breath, clamp down on the emotional turmoil that's eating me alive from the inside out, and spill my guts:

_ I stand on a blue slab of rock in the Maw. The King has just disappeared into a portal of darkness after Xemnas. _

_ Axel's just finished explaining what the Organization wants with the Keyblade._

_ And the _he_ shows up._

_ Saïx._

_ Rotten little bastard._

_ Sanctimonious little son of a bitch._

_ "We'll ensure he recieves the maximum punishment." he says as Axel disappears into a portal of darkness._

_ Like that fixes anything. Like that makes it okay that Kairi's stuck in the realm of Darkness with no way out and that Riku is still nowhere to be found._

_ Rage burns._

_ Searing my veins and scalding the back of my throat like acid._

_ "I don't care about any of that! Just let me into the realm of darkness, okay!"_

_ "If it's Kairi you're worried about, don't. We're taking very good care of her." Saïx's condescending tone clearly conveys the fact that the Nobody knows he's in complete control of the situation._

_ "Take me to her!" I command. I'm really not in a position to be making demands, but I don't care._

_ I force myself not to call the Keyblade back into my grasp. I'm _that_ close to separating Saïx's head from his body._

_ I want to, but I can't._

_ That won't get me any closer to Kairi._

_ "Is she that important to you?" Saïx poses._

_ I can't deny that she is. She's my reason for living._

_ My strength._

_ My light._

_ My life._

_ My everything._

_ "Yeah. More than anything."_

_ Saïx's grin is preadatory, full of malice. "Show me how important."_

_ Desperate times call for desperate measures. Brute force won't get me what I want. But I know what will._

_ Fealty._

_ I get down on my hands and knees. And then, I beg, pleading with my entire being in one word._

_ "Please."_

_ "So, you really do care for her. In that case...the answer's no." Saïx sneers._

_ "You rotten-" There are so many horrible things that I want to call him; all of them to friendly for a monster like him. I'm on my feet before I can blink, fighting with everything I have not to slaughter the Nobody in front of Donald and Goofy._

_ I can't give in._

_ I won't._

_ Because Kairi needs me._

_Kairi needs me._

There are tears on my face, and that doesn't surprise me at all. Even now, I think the death he suffered was too merciful. I should have killed him slowly, one slow cut of the Keyblade at a time, while I held his heart just out of his reach.

It takes me a moment to realize that Kairi's hugging me. "I'm so sorry, Sora." she breathes, rubbing my back tenderly. The strawberry-vanilla scent of her hair and the warm suppleness of her skin helps to ease the pain of the memory.

"It's alright. You're here now, that's all that matters." It isn't really okay—that kind of emotional wound never truly heals, but I'll deal with it.

"Well," Kairi begins, in that sweet-yet-smug tone of voice she has when she _knows_ that whatever argument she's about to deliver is a slam-dunk. "If I was with you, you wouldn't have to worry so much." she points out.

"I know." I answer, grasping at straws for a counter-argument, before realizing that there's no point.

I stare up at the stars, searching the cosmos for an argument before something catches my eye. There's a star that shining much brighter than the others around it, and even though I know what's about to happen, I let myself hope, just for a second, that it's just a shooting star.

And then it winks out.

Kairi's sharp intake of breath tells me that I'm not the only one who's just witnessed the demise of a world, but we don't even have time to grieve before a dark, sleek shape glides over our heads. It looks like a glider of some sort, but it disappears before I can get a good look at it.

It must be a Gummi ship, judging by the way the landing ramp descends, disgorging a dark, armored figure.

I step in front of Kairi instinctively, because that's just how I'm wired.

The black armored shape striding toward us over the beach doesn't look friendly at all, and the Oblivion appears in my hand before I have time to think about it. The weight is comforting; adrenaline snaps through my blood in anticipation of a fight.

The figure stops a few paces away, his face obscured by an opaque black visor. "I have a message to deliver." His eerie, two-tone voice sends an icy chill down my spine.

"Then speak," My response is pure reflex, and it sounds much more confident than I feel—which is probably a good thing, because I don't want to scare Kairi by admitting that I have _no idea_ what's going on.

"The Door to Darkness has opened. Surrender your heart or forfeit your life."

"Drop dead." Kairi snarls from behind me. Though I admire her boldness, it probably isn't a good idea to antagonize this..._thing_.

The blow comes from nowhere.

Only a reflexive block saves my head from being cleaved from my shoulders as the armored man brings a deadly-looking Keyblade to bear.

He doesn't waste any time either. His blade is flashing through a series of blows so swift and powerful that it takes all of my hard-won battle-prowess to avoid being cut to ribbons, let alone attempting a counter.

My arms burn with the effort of defending myself and I can't help but wonder:

If every time I manage not to get killed by one of his blows is a miracle, how many can I string together in a row before my luck runs out?

That's definitely not something I want to be focusing on right now.

I throw myself aside in a frantic hop-step dodge as the assailant's blade smashes into the sand in a great spray of fine rock fragments. I go down hard as when the shockwave hits, and right as I decide that this is it, that I'm going to die right here on this beach, before I get to tell Kairi how I really feel, she's there, trading blows with the guy.

Kairi manages to hold her ground for the first exchange, but her inexperience shows and it's obvious that our attacker is toying with her.

I manage to push her out of the way of a crippling strike and I take the hit along my ribs—I can feel the bones snap under the blow.

The pain is excruciating, hot and red and raw, but I force myself to power through it.

Power thrills in my veins as I launch an assault of my own.

The thrall of the Keyblade's true power is intoxicating, but the heady rush of energy and strength doesn't exactly tip the odds in my favor, especially not with my broken ribs—the assailant turns every strike away with maddeningly little effort

And then there's a dull _thunk_ and he falters. The armored man collapses onto the sand to reveal Riku standing behind him.

"I could've taken him." I tell Riku, a little annoyed at not being able to finish him on my own. "What are you doing here anyway?"

Riku just smirks. "Sure you could've...With all that racket, I had to make sure Kairi wasn't still trying to kill you." he chuckles. "Who was that guy?"

"Not a clue." I answer honestly. Even though Riku's sarcasm can be annoying sometimes, I'm grateful for it now—it makes the whole situation seem a little less horrible.

Kairi's next to me before I realize it, concern etched across her face. "You okay?"

"Never better," I lie, trying to pretend that I'm not about to pass out from the pain in my ribs, or that I can actually breathe normally. I force myself to smile.

Kairi rolls her eyes—as usual, she sees right through my pretense, but she doesn't call me out in front of Riku."Don't be so macho. You don't have to impress anyone, Sora." she chides gently.

Riku groans. "If you two are finished making eyes at each other, we can use that Gummi Ship to go ask the King if he knows anything about what's going on." He suggestd, gesturing at the now-ownerless vessel.

I don't have the energy to dispute the fact that Kairi and I were making eyes at each other. "Good idea. We should get moving; we don't have time to waste."

"Well, shit." Riku muttered behind him. "Here we go again."

**That's all for now, folks. Please Review if you can, more reviews mean faster updates. Can we shoot for a total of 5 before the next chapter? I know you can do it!**

**Catch you on the flipside,**

**~Script**


	2. Unbind Initiation

**ODiclaimer: I own nothing!**

**Thank you so much to all of you who have reviewed so far, it's nice to know that you're enjoying the revamped version of the story.**

**Enjoy the next chapter!**

_**Chapter II: Unbind/Initiation**_

_** Kairi**_

__The twisting, stretching, warping colors of Gummi warp are enthralling. At least for a few minutes. It doesn't take long to realize that while the novelty of doing something you've never done before is pleasant, it wears off after a a little while.

Riku is seems pretty comfortable in the pilot's chair, occasionally glancing at the instrument panel, though he spends most of his time with his fingers laced behind his head.

The pose reminds me of Sora, who I haven't seen since we boarded. That worries me a little, considering the fact that Sora took a pretty nasty hit during the fight.

I only traded a few blows with the guy and my arms _still_ feel like rubber—I don't even want to imagine what it might feel like to be hit by one.

Anxiousness gnaws at my guts, and I try to tell myself that he's probably fine—but _probably_ isn't good enough for my conscience, which refuses to let me rest until I _know_ he's fine.

"I'm gonna go check on Sora. Will you be okay here?" The question is more of a courtesy than an actual concern; Riku looks like he's got a handle on things.

Riku waves a hand dismissively. "Sure. We'll be arriving at Disney Castle in a few minutes. You might want to make sure Sora's awake." Riku chuckles a little—Sora is notorious for his ability to fall asleep anywhere.

I nod. "Alright. See you in a bit." I try to keep the worry out of my voice. Now that I'm actually going to check on him, now that I'm faced with the very real possibility that he might be hurt, I'm a little scared.

I don't know what I would do if something happened to him.

Sora is my best friend in all the worlds.

It killed me when he left me behind—even though he promised he'd come back.

The pain was a little easier to manage when I'd forgotten about him for a while, but I still _knew_ something was missing. And then, when I remembered him again, the shame that I'd forgotten him, coupled with the fact that he was _still_ gone, after all that time...It was the most awful thing I've ever had to experience.

I couldn't eat or sleep.

What little sleep I managed to get was plagued by nightmares of something horrible happening to him; visions of him dying in the most terrible ways I could imagine.

I lost so much weight during that time—I still haven't gained enough to be back to where I should be from a medical standpoint—I was sick with worry. It got to be so bad that my parents put me on anti-psychotic meds just to calm me down.

Even that didn't help very much, and even though I was unwilling to go with Axel at the time, I'm kind of _glad_ he kidnapped me. I never would have had the guts to go out and search for Sora on my own. To be honest, if Axel hadn't kidnapped me, I probably would have just wasted away to nothing, an empty shell of my former self without Sora.

That's why I need to go check on him.

Sora is my anchor.

My faithful guardian.

My love.

Yes: _I love Sora_.

I'm just waiting for the right moment to tell him...I don't want him to get distracted and hurt himself because of me.

It makes me feel a little better when I find him in the lounge, spread across the couch in an uncomfortable looking sprawl watching _Celebrity Deathmatch._

And then I'm torn between wanting to kiss him and rolling my eyes—this is such a stupid show. But, because Sora likes it, I suppose I can tolerate it for a little bit.

"Scoot over, lazy bum." I tell him, smiling so he knows I'm only teasing. "Ugh, this is such a stupid show."

"Slave driver." Sora mutters, but makes room for me. "No dissing my shows." he adds once he's made himself comfortable.

I can't help but smile—being around him does that to me. It's nice, being with him, as easy and natural as breathing. And the comeback that passes my lips is effortless, even if it is a little childish. "Says who?"

Sora points to himself like it's the most obvious answer in the worlds. "Keyblade Master." he flashes his pearly-whites in my favorite smile, and my train of thought is completely derailed.

_Whoa. That's never happened before...I mean, I guess he's always been handsome, but this...this is new._

Because I'm already looking at his smile, my eyes inevitably roam over the rest of his features, and I realize how much he's changed in the year-and-a-half that he's been away—all for the better.

He's lost all traces of baby fat from his face, and the hard, angular planes of his features make him look immensely more mature. The way his lips press together no longer defaults to the naïve smile of a boy or the woe-is-me grimace of a teenager, but the stiff-set line of a young man who knows what he's doing.

"Princess of Heart." My response has a lot less punch than I was hoping for, and I try to mask my embarrassment with a grin. "And as such, I command that you move." I'm grasping at straws now—pulling rank is the final trump card in my arsenal; especially because I _hate_ being a princess.

Sora gives me a lazy smirk; he knows he's got me beat. "Nah, I don't really feel like it. If you want me to move, you'll have to come and move me."

_Oh, gods...Does he have any idea what he's doing to me?_ The mischievous glint in his eyes drives me wild. My breath hitches in my throat, and I hope he doesn't notice.

Call me weak, but the temptation to touch him is too much to bear, so I lean over and shove him gently. The action sends both of us sprawling onto the cushions, with me laying over top of him.

Sora rests his hands on my sides, and I find myself wishing he would hold me tighter.

"Gotcha!" he exclaims, ginning hugely.

All at once, I realize what he's planning—I'm extremely ticklish, and his hands are in the perfect place to reap the benefits of that fact. "Don't you dare..." as soon as I'm done speaking, I know Sora isn't going to listen, and I can't say as I _mind_, but token resistance is all part of the game, right?

Sora's fingers attack my ribs and the breath explodes out of me in laughter. My lungs are heaving, and I can't catch my breath—partly because he's tickling me, but also because I've just realized that his hands are on my body.

Yes, like that.

And then, when I manage to get some air back in my lungs, my breath comes in pants rather than inhalations and exhalations. I feel warm and tingly all over, and I'm pretty sure if he doesn't stop, I'm going to end up doing something _really_ stupid—and by 'stupid' I mean brilliant—like kissing him, but now just isn't the right time for that. Especially when you consider the fact that I haven't actually _told_ him how I feel yet.

"St-stop it!" I yell at him halfheartedly. I try to retaliate with some tickling of my own, but my limbs seem to have taken seperate vacations to opposite ends of the universe, and they're not obeying my commands.

Sora's hands just migrate closer to my stomach, since I'm holding myself up. "Nope."

"Cu-cut it out, Sora! You're gonna make me pee myself!" It's not exactly a lie, but I'm positive that the dampness in my panties isn't from my bladder...And I can't breathe, which isn't helping at_ all_.

"Say 'uncle' and I'll stop." Sora counters, completely in control of the situation.

And then, I'm not sure I want him to stop. I might not have the physical prowess to beat him or Riku in an actual _fight—_not that I _want_ to fight them—I'm just as competitive as they are. So, I'm determined not to call it quits until I absolutely have to. "Never!"

Sora ramps up his ministrations, and I can feel myself slipping over the edge, and I'm forced to give up before something _really _embarrassing happens. "Alright, alright, I surrender! Uncle, uncle!"

My arms refuse to hold me up any longer, and I collapse on top of Sora, exhausted. His heady scent of leather and cold steel is enthralling, the best drug in all the worlds. His closeness is intoxicating, and if were possible to be drunk from being near someone, I'd be absolutely _plastered_.

Sora's wince interrupts my admiration of him.

I immediately push off of him, thinking that maybe I was a little rough when I flopped onto him. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

The chocolate-haired Keybearer waves me off dismissively, which makes me worry even more. "M' fine. It's nothing you did, don't worry about it." Sora's arm curls protectively around his midsection.

"No you aren't. Let me see that." I'm a little peeved that he'd try to hide whatever is hurting him from me, but I can understand that he doesn't want me to worry over him.

Too bad.

My fingers grip the hem of his shirt as I stare into his deep blue eyes; I only just catch myself before I start drowning in them.

Sora resists me, and I glare at him. _Don't push me away..._ he relents and I lift his shirt.

_Damn_ he is _built_. Sora might not have the muscle mass that Riku does, but the his year-and-a-half sojourn has definitely replaced the scrawny lean muscle he used to have with the real deal. His rock-hard abs are clearly defined, and the veins on his arms bulge beneath the skin.

My breath hitches again, and I duck my head so he doesn't see the blush ravaging my face.

A nasty purplish bruise covers the entire left side of his ribcage, accompanied by an entirely unsettling amount of swelling.

Now I really _ am_ angry. "When did that happen?" The words come out more harshly than I want them to, but I think I'm justified. I just got him back, and he's already trying to be macho and act like he's not in pain—and there's no way _that_ doesn't hurt. _This is so stupid. Why do all men feel like they have to be impervious to pain to impress women?_

Sora shrugs like it's no big deal. "During the fight. It was a lucky shot, but I think I might've broken a few ribs."

A shudder rips through me—after my own experience in the fight, I know Sora's injuries could be a lot worse than they are. I wrap my arms around his neck and lean on his shoulder, fighting tears at the fact that I almost lost him right after he came home. "I'm glad you're alright."

"It's okay." Sora says. "I'll get it checked out when we land."

_Yes you will. _"You'd better, otherwise I'm gonna have to kick your ass." After he's done healing of course.

Sora chuckles, and then winces. "Note to self: laughing with broken ribs hurts. Ow."

I look over at him and my heart twinges. It kills me to see him like this—hair plastered to his face, his teeth clenched in pain. _Oh, Sora_...

This might actually be worse than him leaving; I _hate_ seeing him in pain. "Are you alright?"

"Never better," Sora puts on a hardy expression, and I can't help but giggle a little.

"You macho thing, you." My statement comes out more like a coo, and suddenly I'm embarrassed. I shake it off and reach up to smooth the hair off Sora's forehead—he really needs a haircut, but he won't get rid of his spikes without good reason. If I'm really being honest with myself, I'm just looking for an excuse to touch him—I can't seem to get enough of that lately.

Just as I'm starting to settle in to this, the relaxation that physical touch seems to bring both of us, Riku walks in and ruins everything.

"Ahem: am I interrupting something?" Riku clears his throat.

And suddenly, I want to be anywhere _but_ in Sora's arms, because I'm about to die from embarrassment. "_No!_"

"Sure," sarcasm drips from Riku's words. "I just wanted to let you know that we landed. We should hurry up and get inside, the King's going to want to hear about what's going on. If you two are done making out that is..."

Now, I'm more angry then embarrassed, so I get up and punch Riku nice and hard as I walk past him. "We weren't even _doing _ anything!"

"Maybe not," Riku points out, chuckling. "But you wanted to."

I'm not even going to dignify that with a response—even if it's _kind of_ true...I decide to play along to avoid Riku's scrutiny "Ugh, you're _impossible!_" I turn back to Sora, fighting not to grin like an idiot. "How do you put up with him?"

Sora shrugs. "I kind of just ignore him when he says stuff like that." he admits.

Riku rolls his eyes like clockwork. "I feel so appreciated." I could _swear_ he winks at me when he motions to Sora and I.

I'd call him a twerp, but that wouldn't really work, seeing as how he's at least a foot taller than me. I settle for glaring at him.

"Come on, lovebirds. The king is waiting."

I can't restrain myself from huffing and punching Riku again. "We're not lovebirds!" I'm about to storm past him, until I realize that I've never actually _been _here before, so I let Sora lead.

_*****SoH*****_

When we get to the throne room, the king is waiting for us.

I suddenly find myself wishing that I'd worn something a _little_ more dignified than the pink mini-dress I currently have on. I curtsy to the best of my ability and try to look regal as Riku explains the situation.

"I was afraid something like this would happen," Mickey says, "Twilight Town and Radient Garden are reporting similar incidents. I'm not sure even Maleficent realizes the magnitude of what she's just done."

I find myself wondering why he never feels the need to _share _any of this information—a little heads-up would be nice every once in a while.

"What are you talking about?" Sora wonders—at least I'm not the only one who has no clue what's going on...

"Maleficent will never stop trying to conquer the realm of light. She's too obsessed with power and control to do that. She is the only person who would dare released the prisoners from the Keyblade War back into the Realm of Light; they were banished there for a reason. I don't think she realizes how powerful they really are. She intends to conquer the Realm of Light, but with what she's just done, she may well end up destroying it." the king continues gravely.

"We have to stop her!" Sora growls, settling into the _hero_ pose that I _hate_, because it means he's going to war again.

"All in due time, Sora. You are not yet ready to combat this threat. In addition to having several Dark wielders on her side, Maleficent still retains control over the Heartless and the Nobodies." Mickey adds.

_Wow...Talk about being the underdog. _"What do we do?"

"You will have time to train and prepare yourselves soon enough. I know it seems hopeless now, but I think I may have found a way to help you with your task. We need an army, that much is certain, but we also need more Wielders. And I know just where to find them." Mickey continues.

"But, your Majesty, even if we _could_ find more Wielders, the amount of training it would take to get them ready for this kind of a battle...Judging by what you've told us, it just doesn't seem like we have that kind of time." Riku counters.

"Please allow me to finish, Riku." the king chastises gently. "I've been doing some research into the Keyblade's power, as well as the creation of Nobodies and Heartless. Do you remember when Sora sacrificed himself to give Kairi her heart back?"

Riku nods.

It's not necessarily an experience I want to repeat, but Sora's selfless heroics are just another thing I love about him. So I'm telling the truth when I say, "How could I forget?"

"When Roxas and Naminé were created, they retained some of Sora and Kairi's essence, which allowed them to feel true emotions; something a normal Nobody would never be able to do. Since the Keyblade has the ability to unlock people's hearts, unlocking Sora and Kairi's hearts would allow Roxas and Naminé to regain their bodies." Mickey says.

"I thought Diz said that was impossible." Riku says.

"Diz would have been correct, if Roxas and Naminé hadn't been able to_ feel_. Despite the fact that Nobodies don't actually have hearts, it seems that those two started developing their own. It's really quite remarkable." the king responds.

"I'll say." Sora adds.

"As long as you two are willing, I've learned how to use the Keyblade's power to release them. The process is quite taxing and you'll need time to recover if you decide to go through with it." The monarch warns.

_If things really are as bad as he says, we're going to need all the help we can get. _And I realize that the choice isn't really a choice at all"We'll do it."

"Very well." The mouse-king says, and summons his Keyblade. The golden blade shimmers in the light, a white aura gathering around the tip. "_Reserassem!_" he cries.

The white light surges forward, enveloping Sora and I in a cocoon of radiant warmth.

_This isn't so bad..._

Not at first, at least.

And then the pain starts.

It's excruciating.

A high, keening sound reaches my ears, and it's really confusing at first, until I realize it's coming from me.

The light rips me apart from within. Rending, tearing, shredding, splitting.

And then oblivion takes me.

I float in the numb, senseless void for a heartbeat and an eternity in the same instant.

_Am I dead?_

A voice replies from the darkness. It isn't one I recognize, but it doesn't frighten me.

_** No. Only sleeping.**_

_** Don't be afraid.**_

_** Your heart is the mightiest weapon of all.**_

**Questions? Comments? Concerns? Review!**

**See you next chapter!**

**~Script**


	3. Awakening

**Disclaimer: No. I don't own Kingdom Hearts. Never have, never will.**

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, I really appreciate your support!**

**Sorry for the delay everyone; on with the show!**

_**Chapter III: Awakening**_

_ **Roxas**_

_Ba-dum._

I must be dreaming...

_ Ba-dum._

This isn't right.

_ Ba-dum._

It isn't _possible_.

I don't exist; My soul is merely a fragment of someone else's, my body half of a complete organism.

So, I think it's a pretty safe assumption to say that I can't have a heart either.

But, despite the fact that I'm absolutely positive that I don't exist, and therefore can't have a heart, the steady, organic throb behind my ribs is undeniable.

Blood flows through my veins.

Air fills my lungs.

Slowly, as I start to make sense of all these sensations, it hits me: _I'm alive._

My heart's steady beat makes that claim impossible to deny as completely as the air filling my lungs at regular intervals.

The soft cloth whispers as I move my fingers experimentally, thrilled that I can actually _feel _the motion.

At last, I am free from the psudo-existence of a Nobody, released from the hellish prison of a body unable to feel. I opened my eyes, ready to look at the world with my own eyes.

I am _other_ no longer.

The stark whiteness of the room hurts my eyes, but what _really _startles me are the blue eyes staring intently at me from behind a curtain of blonde hair.

Yeah...that's the_ last_ thing I expect to see, and even though I recognize Naminé immediately, I'm not prepared for her to be quite so close to me. So, I respond like a sensible, rational, normal person would.

I scream.

It's a high-pitched sound, one that I'm immediately sure that I'll never live down as I topple off the bed and onto the floor in an uncoordinated heap. Embarrassment pins me to the floor as Naminé leans over the side of the bed, giggling.

"G-good morning, Roxas. Are you okay?"

I nod. _Nothing hurt but my pride and dignity._ "Yeah. Good morning to you too...Where are we?" Being real is all well and good, but I have no idea where we are, and if my experiences with Organization XIII are anything to go by, waking up in a strange place with no memory of the events that brought me here means I'm not off to a very good start.

Naminé shrugs. "Not a clue. Wanna go look around?"

"Sure." It isn't like I have anything better to do...However, the last thing I want to be doing is traipsing around the castle in a hospital gown.

Thankfully, upon further inspection of the room, I find a set of clothes on the chair by my bed. There's a pair of black jeans, white sneakers, and a gray t-shirt with a strange symbol on it; they aren't anything fancy, but they'll do.

Naminé has the same outfit, except with a white shirt and she ducks into the bathroom, presumably to change. "Be back in a sec." she says as the door closes.

I take the opportunity to put my own clothes on, and run my fingers through my hair—I learned a long time ago that trying to comb it is useless. I sit down on the bed to wait, but I don't even have a chance to get comfortable before Naminé is dressed and ready.

_Damn she's fast_.

"Come on, Roxas, let's go!" Naminé whines, her deep blue eyes all wide and pleading; I couldn't say no to her even if I wanted to.

Of course, when she grabs my hand and pulls me off the bed, I don't really have a choice anymore.

We wander the castle for a little while, taking in the sights and sounds.

Little anthropomorphic brooms roam the halls, constantly dusting or sweeping or otherwise cleaning—Naminé thinks they're adorable.

Even though I wouldn't go so far as to call them _adorable_, I'm sure they're nice to have around—this place is _huge_. I'm no stranger to grandiose architecture, the Dark City and the Castle That Never Was were certainly impressive, but I didn't have emotions then, I couldn't appreciate how places could make you feel.

And this place?

This place feels like home.

Naminé hugs my arm and leans on me. "This place is amazing. It's so...peaceful here."

"Yeah," I agree, not sure what else to say. I look over at Naminé, and her radiant smile makes my heart flutter.

"Roxas. Naminé. It's good to see you back on your feet."

I don't recognize the voice, and my response is instant and instinctive, I turn, gently pushing Naminé behind me. Adrenaline snaps through my blood and I tense, ready for a fight.

"Who are you?" I have to look down to see the mouse-like being in front of me.

The large mouse smiled. "My name is Mickey. I am the king of this castle, and I am very happy to welcome you both to the realm of Light."

I don't care who he says he is—Mickey knew our names before he met us, and that fact alone sends a chill down my spine. As grateful as I am to finally have a life of my own, I also know that what's happened to Naminé and I shouldn't technically be possible. Something's not right here...

"What do you want with us?" Naminé wonders, squeezing my hand.

"I need your help." Mickey admits, crestfallen. "I brought you back because Maleficent has returned. She has released thousands of Keyblade Wielders from the Realm of Darkness who were imprisoned during the Keyblade War in an attempt to conquer the Realm of Light. I don't think she understands the magnitude of what she's done; that sort of power is not easily controlled—not even by her."

The pieces fall into place now, and I realize that bringing Naminé and I back to the real world wasn't done out of a desire to be with us—it was a desperation move. Anger ripples through me; despite the king's pretentious speech about saving the Realm of Light, he's really no better than Organization XIII, manipulating others for his own purposes.

"We don't have the resources or the manpower to fight her yet, so our first priority is to recruit heroes from other worlds so we at least stand a chance of defeating her when the time comes." Mickey adds.

"So, were recruiting the strong and screwing over the weak, is that about where we stand?" The words are past my lips before I can stop them, my outrage supersedes my better judgment. Isn't the whole point of being a Keyblade Wielder the ability to protect those who can't protect themselves?

The mouse-king's ears droop; he obviously hasn't thought of it that way, and now he has to come up with some kind of half-assed defense to try and save face.

"This is war, Roxas. Sometimes you have to make tough choices. Do I have your support?"

"Yes, your Excellency." Naminé replies.

Despite my anger at the king's thoughtlessness, I can't say no. "Yes," I don't like it, but if I refuse to help him, we're all screwed.

"What's the Keyblade War?" Naminé poses, and to be honest, I'd kind of been wondering the same thing myself.

"The Keyblade War was a conflict fought almost two hundred years ago between the Wielders of Light and Darkness. The two sides were fighting over Kingdom Hearts—one to protect it, and the other to enslave it. In the end, the forces of Light were victorious and, in an act of mercy, they banished the dark Wielders to the Realm of Darkness rather than killing them." Mickey explains.

Naminé nods. "And those are the Wielders that Maleficent released, right?"

"Exactly," the king replies and a shudder rips through me.

_We're in way over our heads._

"You'll start your training once you've recovered enough to wield a Keyblade. For now, just relax and have a look around. I have a few things that I need to see to, but the brooms will be able to help you find your way if you get lost."

"What about Sora and I?" I ask. Now that I'm real, I have this overwhelming desire to meet Sora in person—he's the closest thing I have to family.

"They're still recovering in the medical wing, but they should be up and about shortly." Mickey replies, before hurrying off to see to his duties.

"You're angry." Naminé points out. It isn't a question.

"Of course I am!" I snap, more harshly than I mean to. "He brought us back to life so we could fight for him!" horror flickers over Naminé's face, and I realize that I have to revise my statement. "I'm not saying that I don't want to help, but this feels just like Organization XIII. The only reason we're here is because we can do things for other people. I don't want to be a puppet for the rest of my life."

Naminé pulls me into a hug then, and I feel a little less like I'm going to implode. "The king means well, Roxas. He's just under a lot of stress. Try to be patient with him, okay? Nobody's perfect."

I sigh. "You're right. I'm sorry for being such a downer..."

Naminé waves a hand dismissively. "It's okay. Now, let's eat, I'm starving. Race you to the kitchen?"

I don't even pause to point out that neither of us knows how to get to the kitchen. "You're on!"

The kitchen is easy enough to find, but I think it's safe to say that whatever we were expecting to find in the kitchen, it certainly isn't _this._

I blink and scrub at my eyes, not sure if I can believe what I'm seeing, and then Naminé exclaims:

"_What_ are you doing?"

I'm wondering the same thing.

_*****SoH*****_

**_Kairi_**

I've never been drunk before, but I would imagine that this is what a hangover feels like.

My limbs are heavy and unresponsive, like they've taken separate vacations to opposite ends of the universe and none of them are in a hurry to come back. The effort required to move them is absolutely uncalled for.

The exertion it takes to open my eyes is slightly less difficult, but my eyelids are still far heavier than they should be.

Despite the fact that I feel like I've run two back-to-back marathons after downing a bottle of nighttime cough suppressant, the white-on-white color scheme of the room I'm in immediately bores me to tears—I've only been awake for a few seconds and I'm already going stir-crazy.

The sight of Sora's gravity-defying hair poking out from the blankets on the other side of the room puts me a little more at ease. Maybe I'm just being paranoid, but the intervals between his breaths are a little too far apart for my liking.

"Sora? You okay?" I ask.

He doesn't answer.

Adrenaline surges through me at his lack of response, propelling me into motion across the slick floor.

"Hey, lazy bum, I'm talking to you." _Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic. _The mantra doesn't help—I'm definitely panicking. I shake Sora's shoulder a little harder than necessary trying not to completely lose it. "Come on, Sora...Wake up!"

Sora _still_ doesn't move, and I decide that desperate times call for desperate measures.

And so, I slap him.

Sora immediately jerks awake, rubbing his cheek. "Ow! What the hell?"

The breath leaves me in a hot gust—I didn't even realize I was holding it in the first place—and I pull Sora close, pressing my lips against his cheek before I have time to think about it and then I hug him, trying to play off the kiss because now I feel like I _might_ have overreacted.

He's not dying.

He's perfectly, completely, absolutely fine.

"Sora, you're okay!" I blurt out before I can stop myself, and then I'm embarrassed for stating the obvious.

Sora raises an eyebrow, and suddenly my cheeks are on fire. "Um, yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You scared me." I admit, putting my hand over his as he rubs his face. "Sorry I slapped you...couldn't think of anything else." Looking back on it, hitting him was completely unnecessary.

But, I can't lose him.

I _can't_.

Sora is my best friend.

My guardian.

My knight-in-shining-armor.

My world.

And even though I know that I should be content with that.

Even though it's ridiculously, unreasonably selfish, I can't help myself.

I want more.

"It's okay." Sora breaks into my musings, shrugging it off like it's nothing, because that's the kind of person he is. His smile lights up the room and he nudges me playfully. "But, you could've just said: _good morning_."

Out of nowhere, I'm exhausted. Utterly spent. The adrenaline rush has dissipated in light of the fact that Sora is not, in fact, in danger of dying.

Maybe it's a little irresponsible, and it's definitely a little egocentric, but I give into my emotions in this endless/instant moment collapse on top of Sora.

It's just...he's so close and so warm and so perfect and all I want is his arms around me.

"Hold me," I request, blushing a little at my own boldness as I rest my head on his chest and curl up next to him.

Sora wraps an arm around me and I'm lost to the soothing current of bliss for a moment until he speaks again.

"You know, I'm starting to think that this relationship is a _tiny_ bit abusive. Just a smidge." Sora flashes me his brilliant smile again, and I have to force myself to focus on his words, and not the fact that seeing his absolutely flawless grin makes me wonder what he would taste like...

"First you beat me, and then you snuggle with me. I'm so confused..."

_Relationship_.

The word hits me like a lightning bolt, supercharged with potential. "What do you mean 'relationship'?"

Sora takes a deep breath, and I can feel the rigid cords of muscle beneath his skin twist with tension. "I've been meaning to ask you something..." He swallows hard and looks me square in the eyes.

_His eyes are so blue_...

I hold his gaze and smile, so he knows that he can ask me anything.

"I, will you be my girlfriend?" Sora wonders.

I'm completely stunned and elated, but Sora seems to think that he's putting me in an awkward position, because he's quick to give me an out.

"I completely understand if you don't..."

I have to stop him there—I won't let him get all worked up over something that he has no reason to worry about. I put a finger against his lips, hoping that this isn't some crazy dream when I answer him:

"Shh. Of course I will." And then I just go with it, leaning in to press my lips against his.

_Oh gods..._

The tempered heat behind his kiss goes straight into my bones as he gently traces my bottom lip with his tongue.

I don't waste any time in letting our mouths become intimately acquainted with one another; I had no idea he could kiss like _this_.

It's pure ecstasy.

Heaven.

The best drug in the worlds.

And then I have to pull away when the dizziness sets in—apparently I've forgotten to breathe...

_Oops._

"Wow..." I gasp, trying to catch my breath. "You're a really good kisser." _That's the best you can come up with I? You sound like a ditz!_

Sora doesn't seem to mind my less-than-articulate response, because he just smiles and responds with: "You're not so bad yourself, Kai."

I try to ignore the blazing in my cheeks as I lean forward to kiss him again, but Sora's stomach ruins out intimate moment with a loud growl.

I can't react fast enough to trap the giggle behind my lips. "Let's go get you some food."

"I second that emotion." Sora smiles.

I'm about to just stroll out of the room, but then I realize that:

a) I have no idea where I'm going and b) a paper hospital gown isn't exactly the best attire for exploring a castle...

A quick search of the room reveals a change of clothes on the chair next to my bed, and I don't waste any time in snatching them and heading to the bathroom to change.

I'm only in the bathroom for a little while, but it feels like an eternity—I guess I'm just too eager to be next to Sora again.

Sora's ready to go when I exit the bathroom, and he leads me to the kitchen, hand-in-hand.

I'm not much of a cook, but all I can think of when we get to the kitchen is making cookies with Sora. That seems like the perfect boyfriend/girlfriend activity.

Despite my eagerness to get to baking, I have to take a moment to admire the kitchen. Like the rest of the castle, it's impressive. The oak paneling contrasts with the stainless-steel appliances and décor, accenting the kitchen's very modern appearance.

And then, the moment's past, and I'm raiding the fridge for cookie-making supplies.

"What are you doing?" Sora wonders.

"Making cookies for my boyfriend." I struggle not to drop the two mixing bowls I'm extricating from the cabinet above my head as I answer him. _Saying that feels so right..._

"Sounds good. What kind?" Sora wraps his arms around my middle from behind and rests his chin on my shoulder.

My face is beginning to hurt from all this smiling, but I ignore the pain and turn to kiss his cheek. "Chocolate-chip. And snickerdoodles."

"My favorite!" Sora exclaims, grinning.

I start whipping the ingredients, but Sora makes it incredibly difficult to concentrate when he kisses the top of my head.

"You're amazing." He whispers.

I have to fight the urge to discard the whisk and demand that he kiss me senseless here and now—because then we'll have no food, and I think we're both pretty hungry. "You're pretty wonderful yourself, babe."

I can hear the smile in Sora's voice when he answers. "Thanks. You want to know what I want to know?"  
I press myself closer to Sora as I wait for him to continue, I can't get over how perfectly we fit together.

"Who the hell names a cookie 'snickerdoodle'?" Sora wonders.

I can't help myself, I burst into full-blown laughter, tears rolling down my cheeks. _Oh, Sora..._I manage to compose myself long enough to ask him to get me some cookie sheets, but then I'm gasping for breath through my giggles again.

I cross the kitchen to get the non-stick spray, turning just in time to see him with his finger in the cookie dough.

"No fair," I whine. "Baker gets first dibs on the cookie dough!"

"You snooze, you lose." Sora shoots back good-naturedly, raising the dollop of cookie dough to his lips.

"Don't you _dare_," I warn in mock anger—it's very hard to be stern with him when he's so..._dazzling._

Sora sucks the cookie dough off of his finger with seductive moan of ecstasy and I shiver with pleasure at the sound.

My mind immediately jumps to other activities that would cause him to make that sound, and I have to wrench my mind out of the gutter.

The spiky-haired Keyblade Wielder dips his finger back into the dough for a second helping. "Too late," he says casually.

I lunge across the kitchen, the non-stick spray forgotten in my haste to at least have _some_ of the raw dough before we start baking. I seize Sora's wrist, preventing him from consuming the morsel. "Oh, no you don't!"

"Don't mind if I do," Sora brings his finger closer to his mouth—he's too strong for me to hold him back. He struggles playfully, but loses his footing on the flour-covered floor, and drags both of us down onto the tile.

My fall is cushioned by Sora's body. He doesn't seem to be hurt though, and as and added bonus, he seems to have forgotten about the cookie dough on his finger. I lean down and very slowly sucked the morsel off of Sora's finger, swirling my tongue around his fingertip. I can't resist the urge to smirk triumphantly, because two can play at this game.

"I win." I mumble around the dough in my mouth.

Sora chuckles. "'Much to learn, you still have'." With that, he really _does _kiss me senseless—stealing the cookie dough from behind my lips in the process.

_So not fair!_

I'm gasping for breath when we break apart, and I pout childishly as Sora swallows the morsel, hoping to make him feel guilty for eating _my_ cookie dough.

"That," I point out breathlessly. "is cheating. Very poor sportsmanship." I can't maintain my stern facade for long. "Did you seriously just quote Yoda?"

"Yes, because Yoda is the source of all practical wisdom."

I chuckle . "You're such a nerd."

Sora's answering smile momentarily blinded me. "You love me anyway. Furthermore, I did not cheat, I simply used my talents to get what I wanted."

I press myself closer to Sora as I lay on top of him, intoxicated by his proximity. "And what are these 'talents' of which you speak?"

"Shall I demonstrate?" Sora replies in a lower, huskier register, and I suddenly feel that dampness in my panties again.

My body thrills at the sound of his voice and I lean closer. "Yes, please." I'm trying to sound seductive, but I'm pretty sure that my request comes out a lot more like a plea.

Sora leans closer, but he's interrupted before he can grant my petition.

"_What_ are you doing?" A shocked voice comes from the kitchen's entryway.

My eyes snapped to the entrance way.

Roxas and Naminé are clearly shocked at what they're seeing—both of their mouths are hanging open in disbelief.

I glance back at Sora as my face heats up, and my boyfriend's face looks as red as mine feels.

_Well,_ I reflect _this is awkward._

**Thoughts? Anyone? Review!**

**See you all next chapter!**

**~Script**


	4. Rite and Ruin

**Disclaimer: Yeah...I don't own Kingdom Hearts. Or anything else you recognize.**

**As always, I'd like to thank everyone who's reviewed/favorited this story so far, your support is what motivates me to write! *hint, hint; nudge, nudge***

**On with the show!**

_**Chapter IV: Rite and Ruin**_

_**Naminé**_

__I can't say exactly what I'm expecting to see when I enter the kitchen, but I think it's safe to say that finding Sora and Kairi making out on the floor, covered in various baking ingredients, is the last thing in the worlds that I would've expected.

Sora's face is bright red as he stands up, gently sorting the mess of tangled limbs he and Kairi have become, like he's afraid he's going to hurt her.

There's a brief flash of me and Roxas in the same position, but I make myself shake it off, to squash the sudden, inexplicable surge of desire that burns in my veins at his closeness. I inch away from him, afraid that being this close to him for even a second longer will have me doing something incredibly stupid.

"Um, are we interrupting something?" Roxas wonders.

Sora has _what do you think?_ Written all over his face, but Kairi says:

"Nope, not at all." I want to believer her, but the breathlessness of her voice and the blush on her face steals most of the credibility from her statement. She looks away and starts dusting the worst of the flour off of her clothes. "Sora and I were just...making cookies."

"More like playing tonsil hockey." Roxas mutters, and I fight the urge to stomp on his foot and elbow him instead.

"Stop it."

Roxas' face is the picture of innocence. "What? Those two were clearly in the middle of some serious face-sucking before we got here."

Sora and Kairi look embarrassed as all get-out and I paste a huge grin on my face. _No judgment here._ The poor guys are already embarrassed enough—there's no need for Roxas to make such insensitive comments, even if he is just teasing.

I reach up and grab Roxas by the ear, ignoring his protests. "Excuse us."

I drag Roxas out of the kitchen and around the corner so we can talk privately.

"Ow!" Roxas exclaims, rubbing his ear once I've released him. "What was that for?"

I roll my eyes—I can't believe I actually have to _explain_ this. "Just because something is obvious doesn't mean you have to _say_ it. How would you feel if—hypothetically speaking—Sora and Kairi walked in on _ us_ making out, and then felt the need to point it out?"

It takes a Herculean amount of effort not to think about totally-not-opposed to that idea I am. There's no denying that Roxas is handsome, but I can't think about that too much, or my stern facade will crumble.

Roxas at least has the good grace to look chagrined. "Oh."

I cuff him on the back of his head, more for his inarticulate response than anything else. "Use your brain next time, Roxas."

Roxas just rolls his eyes. "Yes, dear." he quips.

When we head back into the kitchen, Sora and Kairi are making cookies, pretending like nothing happened as the meticulously place the dough onto the cookie sheets.

"We're back," I call out, hoping to alert them to our presence before they embarrass themselves again.

Kairi pecks Sora on the cheek and then ambles over to me, grinning. "How are you feeling?"

It takes me a minute to figure out how to respond to her question; I've never really _had_ feelings before, so being able to describe exactly what it is that I'm feeling takes a little getting used to. "I'm...great. I feel great!"

I'm not entirely sure where it comes from, but I'm almost overcome by a sudden desire to know more about Sora and Kairi's relationship. "What's up with you and Sora?"

Kairi gives me a strange smile, and leans in closer. "I'll tell you later,"

My mouth jumps ahead of my brain—it's strange to have that happen. "You'd better, I want details!"

The oven chimes then, bringing my mind back to the here and now.

"What kind of cookies are you making?"

"Snickerdoodles," Kairi responds as she slides the sheet into the oven.

Roxas catches my eye over Kairi's head. His eyes are so deep and blue and enticing that it takes me a second to realize that he's trying to tell me something.

"Snickerdoodle?" he mouths.

I laugh.

_*****SoH*****_

_** Riku**_

__I shut the door behind me as I step into the king's private chambers. "Yes?"

Judging by the expression on Mickey's face, I'm right not to waste time with pleasantries—his expression is as grim and serious as I've ever seen it.

"We have a problem." Mickey says.

_No shit, Sherlock. Keyblade Wielders from the Darkness have been released by Maleficent in an attempt to take over the Realm of Light, destroying life as we know . How could that _possibly_ be a problem?_

I bite my tongue to keep my sarcastic inner monologue from spilling past my lips, but that doesn't change the fact that stating the obvious is completely unnecessary. "What is it?"

"I've just received another distress call from Radiant Garden. Apparently, a small band of Dark Wielders has sacked the city, killed the Prime Minister, and helped Maleficent set up a base of operations there."

I bite back an exhausted groan. A Wielder's work is never done. "What would you have me do, Your Highness?"

Mickey's face darkens. "Save as many as you can. We're going to need all the help we can get if we want to have even the slightest chance of stopping Maleficent, so if there's anyone there with reasonable fighting ability, see if you can convince them to help us out. There's a Gummi ship in the hangar for you when you're ready to go."

I nod. "It will be done." I feel kind of pompous talking like this, but talking to the king demands a certain amount of dignity, even if he is my friend. I turn for the door, but I only have time to take two steps before Mickey adds something else. I summon the same cloak that I used during my time with DiZ—there's no need to attract undue attention to myself in Radiant Garden, especially considering the fact that if Maleficent recognizes me, it's going to be a lot harder to evacuate people.

"Before you go, could you please let Sora, Kairi, Roxas, and Naminé know that master Yen Sid will be arriving shortly to assist them in preparing for the coming battle?"

"Sure. I'll be back as soon as I can."

It doesn't take me long to find the kitchen—the smell of freshly baked cookies is like a homing beacon. I'm not really surprised to find Sora, Kairi, Roxas and Naminé gorging themselves on cookies, either.

"We saved you some cookies, Riku!" Sora mumbles around a mouthful of crumbs. "What's with the getup?"

"I'm heading to Radiant Garden. Maleficent and her Dark Wielders have set up a base of operations there, and I'm heading in to try and evacuate people before things go any further south than they already have."

Ever the hero, Sora thumbs himself in the chest. "You're not going without us!" he summons the Oblivion and strikes a confident pose, only to be dragged down onto the floor by the weight.

While I appreciate his readiness to help, he'd just get in the way—the separation process must've really taken a toll on him. I have to resist the urge to chuckle as he topples over. "I hate to break it to you Sora, but you're not really in the best of shape to be fighting the forces of evil at the moment..."

The other Wielders try to summon their weapons, with similar results—this time I snicker a little as everyone crashes to the floor.

"The same goes for the rest of you." Adding that last bit feels a little unnecessary, but it needs to be said before anyone else—Roxas in particular—decides that they need to be macho and prove their worth.

Naminé's gripping the Kingdom Key, and she looks a little shell-shocked to be doing so. "How..."

I realize what she's asking. "You were Kairi's Nobody, Naminé. When she gained the ability to wield the Keyblade, so did you."

"Oh...That makes sense, I guess." Naminé still looks a little confused, but this kind of information is a lot to process, especially since she was technically born yesterday.

I can't resist the urge to tease Sora and Kairi for old time's sake before I go. "Keep the two lovebirds in line would you? Wouldn't want them getting up to any funny business while I'm gone."

I'm fully expecting Sora to tell me to shut up; or Kairi to give me the finger, or punch me.

So it's more than a little surprising when the full-on kiss right in front of me. I mean, it isn't like it hasn't been an _eternity_ in coming, but still...

"Too late, Riku." Kairi says in a sultry voice, pressing her lips to the side of Sora's neck.

I try not to read too much into that and give them as small, congratulatory smile. "It's about damn time!" I'm just about to head out when I remember the king's request.

"All joking aside, the king wanted me to tell you that Yen Sid will be coming to here to train you...and on that note, I have to be going—Radiant Garden isn't going to save itself."

"Hey Riku," Sora calls as I step through the doorway.

I turn to face him, expecting some smart-assed jab, but I get a solemn nod instead.

"Be careful out there."

I nod back. "Always am."

And then, it's off to the hangar.

_*****SoH*****_

_** Sora**_

__I pick myself up off the floor, dismissing the Keyblade—I don't have much use for it now anyway.

Kairi's leaning on me heavily—not that I'm complaining—the 'separation' process took a lot more out of me than I thought it would, and Kairi, Roxas, and Naminé seem to be in the same boat.

"Who's Yen Sid?" Kairi wonders, her voice thick with fatigue.

"He's a wizard," I explain, wrapping my arm around her waist to help hold her up. _Maybe baking cookies—if you can call it that—wasn't such a good idea..._ I try to pull myself together, to dig deep and stay alert and ready for anything, but in all honesty, I'm just as exhausted as Kairi. I tell her more about Yen Sid, partly because she's curious, and partly because if I don't find something to keep me occupied, there's a very strong possibility that I'll collapse right here in the kitchen.

"He helped Donald, Goofy, and I on our last journey. And, Yen Sid was a Keyblade Master a long time ago; he's the one who trained the king."

No sooner have the words left my mouth than there's a bright flash and a burst of thick blue smoke—Yen Sid definitely makes an entrance.

The cloud of bluish smoke that chokes me is more than a little unnecessary, but Yen Sid has a flair for the dramatic, and it's not really my place to complain about his entrances—especially not if he's going to be training us.

If I hadn't already met him, the stars and moons on his oversized robes, along with his pointy wizard's hat, would make him very hard to take seriously. Despite his eccentric clothing, he has this..._aura_ that commands respect.

And at this moment, he doesn't exactly look happy to see us—granted, his beady eyes give him this perpetually disappointed expression—but he looks genuinely disappointed at the sight of us. Yen Sid sighs, and suddenly I feel like I'm about to be scolded, which is more than a little irritating.

"I expected more from the Wielders of the Keyblade," Yen Sid shakes his head.

I grit my teeth and lock my sarcastic response behind my lips before bowing respectfully—even if he's a little pompous, I'd rather not repeat the embarrassing mistake I made when I first met him.

"Master Yen Sid, It's an honor." There's this awkward shuffling behind me, and then Kairi, Roxas, and Naminé mumble the same greeting.

I wonder idly what exactly Yen Sid has done to deserve the title of '_Master_' but I keep my questions to myself.

"Why are you lounging about when there is work to be done, young Wielders?" Yen Sid demands, not angry, but stern.

"We're," I'm just about ready to launch into some half-baked excuse about being under the weather, when Yen Sid cuts me off.

"Your king has told me about the Separation process he performed on you to allow Roxas and Naminé to exist, as well as the effects it would have on you. It matters not whether you can wield the Keyblade—your strength will return in time. But, are there not manuscripts you can study, to instruct yourselves in the use of magic while you recover?"

Oh. "Yeah

I feel kind of stupid for not thinking of that earlier, but in my defense, I was a little preoccupied.

"We haven't time to waste. War is upon us, whether you are ready or not, and Mickey has asked for my help in instructing you in the use of advanced magic, as well as training the new Wielders in the use of their Keyblades." Yen Sid snaps his fingers and there's another plume of his ridiculous smoke and suddenly, we're in a large, empty room.

Yen Sid doesn't even offer any kind of cursory explanation for where we are, he just jumps right into the lesson. The old geezer certainly doesn't waste time.

"How is everyone feeling?"

There's a general mumbling that ranges from _good_ to_ crappy_, but Yen Sid presses on anyway. "Good, now let us begin."

"I am aware that the separation process has left you physically drained, but fear not; I have a remedy. _Valentia!_" Yen Sid gestures, and just like that, the exhaustion that's been hovering over me all day is gone.

I summon the Keyblade back into my grasp, more than a little relieved that I can hold it with ease now.

"As I'm sure you're all aware, magic can be cast without a wand or Keyblade in hand. The basis for all advanced magic has its roots in the ancient language of Latin. If your will is strong enough, and the picture or feeling in your mind's eye is clear, you'll be able to do almost anything. The spell you just experienced means 'vigor' in Latin. Until you gain more mental fortitude, this spell will most likely use all of your energy, much like the more basic 'Cure' spells." Yen Sid explains.

"Does this mean that the second and third tier of spells is irrelevant then?" I wonder.

"No. Those spells are still effective, but you'll no doubt prefer these once you become more familiar with them. We'll start off with some basic ones. Fire, for instance is _incendia_. Thunder is _levitas_, and Blizzard is, _glacies. _Commit these to memory; they will more than likely save your lives." Yen Sid continues.

"Since there's a spell for vigor, couldn't we just cast that on ourselves when we get tired? That way we'd never run out of energy." Kairi asks.

"Absolutely not!" Yen Sid roars, and even I flinch at the intensity of his response. "You cannot cast a spell that will consume more energy than is in your body at the time—that would kill you. The same thing would result if you tried to bring someone back from the dead. However, it _is_ possible to draw energy from the environment around you to sustain a spell." the wizard explains more calmly.

I nod—everything seems pretty cut-and-dry so far.

"I'll also be training you in _Nex Manuum._ It is a martial art form practiced by ancient Wielders so they could protect themselves in the event that their Keyblade was taken from them. However, before we get started on that, I'll need to know how proficient you are with your weapons to begin with. Please choose a sparring partner and spread out around the room." Yen sid instructs.

I look at Roxas, and the former Nobody nods. I'm glad for that-I'd have felt bad squaring off against Kairi or Naminé, given their relative inexperience, and especially considering the fact that one of them is my girlfriend.

Roxas and I head over to the other side of the room so we have space to fight without hurting any bystanders.

I roll my shoulders and summon the Oblivion—a primal thrill snaps through my blood at its comforting weight.

Roxas grins, summoning the Sleeping Lion and the Hero's Crest. "Look sharp,"

_Here goes nothing..._

This is how it feels to be Sora, right now:

Time stops.

Just for an instant.

And in that brilliant, pristine, fraction of a second, you discover it.

The same power that thrills in your veins when you hover above the ground in Final Form.

The intimate connection between weapon and Wielder.

The sheer, visceral, thrall of power twists through you demanding action.

No, it _is_ you.

With the same intuitive certainty that allows you to protect the ones you love with reckless abandon, you know: despite the fact that Roxas wields two Keyblades instead of one, he will not defeat you here.

You don't even realize that you're smiling as you charge forward at speeds that render you almost invisible.

You're too focused on this.

Because this is it.

The battle is joined.

I slip past the first swing of Roxas' Keyblade, the Sleeping Lion whispers past my ear, a hairsbreadth away from lopping the appendage clean off. A deft flick of my wrist brings the Oblivion around to intercept the Hero's Crest before it opens me up from shoulder to hip across his chest.

Roxas isn't fooling around...

The deafening clang of metal on metal only intensifies as I drive Roxas across the room with a furious onslaught of strikes; my thundering overhand sends Roxas to his knees.

I have to give Roxas credit though—he refuses to go quietly. In a flash his blades are up, forming an 'X' to catch my next blow in the nexus. His follow-up kick sends me stumbling back, blade flashing as I hastily intercept Roxas masterful series of cuts off my back foot, which is a notoriously dangerous position to be defending from.

I backflip to get some distance from Roxas' dual-bladed assault before he cuts me to ribbons and point my Keyblade at the former nobody. "Firaga!" an enormous ball of heat and light erupts from the Oblivion's tip, tearing across the room toward my opponent.

I barely have enough time to get back into the 'ready' position as Roxas rolls under the massive fireball, both blades whirling as he leaps at me.

I lean back, and his Keyblades uncross, inches from my throat.

I'm in the flow of it now—the visceral dance of combat, and I plant my feet, Keyblad wheeling and spinning and whirling and flashing to turn away Roxas' assault, refusing to give any more ground as the blonde Wielder hammers away at my defenses. I take advantage of a particularly sloppy blow to send the Hero's Crest twirling across the room—Yen Sid, Kairi, and Naminé scatter to avoid the projectile.

Oops...

"You're getting sloppy Roxas," I taunt, parrying Roxas' slash before countering with one of my own.

"Get real, look which one of us is winning!" Roxas shoots back, barely managing to intercept my overhanded hack as he brings both hands to the Sleeping Lion's handgrip.

"If this is winning, I'd hate to see what losing looks like." I respond, skipping over Roxas' attempted ankle sweep.

If I can distract him, keep him unfocused, victory will come much easier.

Roxas lunges forward, teeth bared in a vindictive snarl.

I barely have time to think: _Maybe I over did it..._ and then Roxas is all over me.

We're toe-to-to, Keyblades flashing and whirling, and ringing as Roxas attempts to plow through my defense with brute force.

"Give it up, Roxas. You can't win." It's not so much a jab as a statement of fact. I barely have to try to turn away Roxas' next blow, and the Sleeping Lion spirals out of his grasp to clang onto the floor.

I make my victory clear, so there aren't any disputes later, resting the Oblivion's blade against Roxas' neck.

Roxas grins, panting. "Good fight. I'll get you next time though."

"Well done, both of you." Yen Sid's praise is almost awkward, considering the wizard's usually-stern demeanor.

"Naminé, Kairi, you're up next."

I slump against the wall as Kairi and Naminé squared off, exhausted from sparring with Roxas.

It 's going to be a long day.

_*****SoH*****_

** _Riku_**

****Radiant Garden.

Slaughter.

While I would never have put the two words in the same sentence before, they seem almost synonymous now.

The marketplace is filled with panicking citizens as two Keyblade-wielding armored men and a few Armored Knight heartless cut down anyone in their path—it looks like they were trying to get into the residential district; the entrance to which is barricaded and guarded by a small military force.

They don't stand a chance.

In a spray of gore, the two Wielders effortlessly cut down the militia and charge into the residential district.

I give chase, leaping from rooftop to rooftop so I can keep up.

One of the Wielders grabs a passing citizen and slams the old, grizzled man up against the wall. "Where's Merlin?"

"I don't know!" the man pleads. "I'm just a humble cobbler. Please don't kill me."

I stand up from his crouch. I don't give myself any time to think about what I'm doing before I leap from the rooftop.

Too slow.

A Keyblade slashes the old man's throat in the same instant that I tackle one of the Wielders, spearing him through the head with Way to the Dawn's sharp point. The Heartless are a cinch to take out.

_And then there were two._

The other Wielder turns. "That's the last mistake you'll ever make."

I raise my Keyblade, just in time to save my head from being hacked clean off.

I give ground under the rain of blows from the assailant's Keyblade, arms burning, vision flashing white as the man's gauntleted hand smashes into the side of my face. Warm blood runs down my cheek, but I shut out the pain, surging forward with an offensive of my own.

Our weapons lock, and I shove against his blade with a ll my might.

There's no give, not even an inch.

I can take comfort in the fact that he's not pushing me back anymore, but I can't go on like this forever...

The dark Wielder abruptly pitches sideways, an oversized shuriken embedded in his helmet.

A slender young woman approaches, no older than maybe seventeen, her black hair is cropped short. She's wearing a black vest with a black t-shirt underneath, black and tan short shorts. Her knee-high black socks are mostly concealed by her grey boots, which resemble hi-top sneakers more than anything else.

"I could've taken him." I tell her, slightly annoyed at having my fight interrupted.

"That's not what it looked like from I was standing. You were totally getting your ass handed to you." The girl replies.

"You need your eyes checked, kid." I cross my arms, irritated with her attitude—it's like she thinks she the gods' gift to the worlds or something. "Who are you anyway?"

The young woman scowls, like she's personally insulted. "I'm not a kid! I'm the Great Ninja Yuffie." The young woman replies sourly, contradicting herself with her actions. "And you'll remember that if you know what's good for you."

I scoff. _Deep breaths, Riku. Count to ten. Relax._ "Whatever,"

"Relax, Yuffie. He's here to help." A man with dark brown hair, dark eyes, and a deep scar across his face speaks up. "That is, if you don't kill him first."

_Saved._

"Gimme a break, Squall, It's not my fault the King's rep is an ungrateful asshat!" Yuffie snaps back.

"Ungrateful? I was _fine_!" I reply, clenching my fists to keep from strangling her.. "What reason do I have to stroke your ego when I didn't _need_ your help in the first place?"

The man frowns and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I told you before: it's Leon. Sorry about all this, Riku."

"How-" I wonder how he could possibly know my name if we've never met before.

"The king told us you'd be coming. We can talk more later, it's not safe for us in the streets —especially not after dark—those armored guys are everywhere." Leon turns to Yuffie. "If you'd be so kind as to lead the way back to Merlin's I'm sure our _guest_ could use some rest."

"Whatever, Squall." Yuffie snarks. She glares at me and I have to fight the childish impulse to glare right back at her. "Try to keep up, asshole." she sneers.

I sigh and fall in behind Leon and the egotistical teenybopper who calls herself Yuffie. _It's going to be a long night.._

**Like it? Hate it? Review!**

**See you next chapter!**

**~Script**


	5. A Dose of Reality

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**As always, thanks to everyone who has reviewed/favorited this story, your support has been very much appreciated!**

**Enjoy the next chapter!**

_**Chapter V: A Dose of Reality**_

_**Riku**_

I can't sleep.

Every time I close my eyes, the same scene plays out across the backs of my eyelids.

_The old man goes down, his wild spray of white beard already turning crimson._

_ Fury rips though me, and then I'm moving, moving, moving, leaping over the heads of terrified pedestrians in a blind tackle._

_ Way to the Dawn punches through the Wielder's helmet with a meaty crunch, like an orange being crushed inside a tin can. Blood sprays out of his skull, and then it's on me, in my eyes, in my hair, the coppery smell filling my nostrils._

_ I rip my Keyblade out of the wound, hoping to staunch the spray of red, only to be rewarded with another spray of gore. I'm covered in blood now, and the horrible sticky wetness of the stuff makes me want to be sick._

_ But, that's not the worst part._

_ No..._

_ The worst part is his eyes._

_ The helmet was broken by the blow, the visor shattered, and the sight of the dead Wielder's cold, lifeless eyes is burned into my brain forever._

_ I did this._

_ I'm a killer._

_ It doesn't matter that I did it in defense of an innocent man, or that it was the simple, fundamental law of action/reaction that brought me to this place._

_ The truth is that I have spilled the blood of another living, breathing, human being._

_ Killing Heartless or Nobodies, that's different. They don't have hearts. They can't feel. Can't love or hate or care._

_ But I can._

_ And that simple fact is my pennance: _I can care_._

_ I will have to exist now, have to have every second haunted by the knowledge that I am a killer. No matter what I do from this point forward, I will never be able to wash my hands of his blood._

_ I can't forget._

_ Not ever. _

_*****SoH*****_

I wake up with a start, fumbling in the darkness for a light switch as I stumble into the en-suite bathroom.

The third blind swipe of my hand catches the thing, owing more to luck than anything else. The small bathroom floods with light, and then the cold water is on and I'm splashing it onto my face and slapping my cheeks, hoping to wake up from the horrible nightmare that is reality.

It doesn't help.

_ I look like hell._ I realize as my reflection stares back at me from the mirror—not that I was expecting anything different.

_**You see, Riku? We're not so different.**_ Ansem's voice intones, deep and haunting. He hasn't bothered me for a while, but I haven't been able to get rid of him completely since he possessed me in Hollow Bastion. Ansem keeps quiet for the most part, but in moments of weakness, he speaks up, taunting, tempting, goading me toward a darker, more sinister path.

_Shut up! We're nothing alike!_ I snap back, trying to ignore the truth of his words as they resonate through my bones. _Killer, killer, killer._

_**Oh, but we are...You're a killer now too.**_ Ansem is relentless, cutting my resolve to shreds with his words.

_It's different. I killed because I had no other choice; to _prevent_ suffering, misery, and death, not to _cause_ it._ Ansem's words bite deep, but I can't let myself falter, not even for a second.

_**If I recall correctly, you **_**failed**_** in that respect, did you not? Had you used the Darkness to your advantage, would you have succeeded?**_

__He's relentless. _Doubtful._

_**One cannot help but wonder...**_

__Ansem leaves me then—I splash more cold water on my face and try not to think about what he's said.

I turn back to the bedroom, only to realize that the room looks more like a torture chamber than anything remotely comfortable—and even if I can get back to sleep, it won't be a restful night. I grit my teeth, grind the heels of my hands into my eyes, and shuffle toward the kitchen.

If I'm going to spend the rest of my night awake, I may as well get something to eat...

"You look like shit." Yuffie comments without venom as I stumble into the kitchen, groping blindly for the coffee pot as the smell hits my nostrils.

"Not now Yuffie," I take a moment to steady myself before pouring myself a mug. Sleep deprivation takes its toll, and some of the brownish liquid sloshes onto the counter.

Yuffie bites her lip, and I can't tell whether she's flirting, or trying to decide what to say next. "I'm sorry. Can't sleep?" She says after a long moment, sweeping a few black locks behind her ear. Her dark eyes are bloodshot—and mine probably don't look much better.

"What the hell does it _look _like?" I wonder, agitated from lack of sleep. I take a swig of coffee, and burn my tongue for my trouble. "Shit!"

I pinch the bridge of my nose. _Take a deep breath. Count to ten. Relax._ "Look, I'm sorry I'm being such a dick, Yuffie. It's just..." I stop there—just because I'm being civil doesn't mean she has to know my life story.

Yuffie nods, like she gets it, and it's not in this shut-up-and-move-on way, she just..._gets it_. "The nightmares get better with time. Coffee only helps for the first, like, three hours, and then you're ten times as tired as when you took the first sip." Her movements are sinuous and smooth as she gets up from the table.

We might not be on the best of terms, but I have to admit that Yuffie's attractive. I mean, I'm definitely not complaining about the fact that her pajamas consist of a midriff-revealing tank top and flannel pants with skulls and crossbones on them.

And then, it's right back to being irritated with her when she snatches the cup out of my hands and dumps the contents down the sink.

"What the hell!" Iwhisper. I mean really, who _does_ that?

Yuffie smirks and puts a finger to my lips. "In a minute, you'll discover that you don't actually _like_ coffee." she says.

I resist the urge to bite her finger, and then feel slightly ashamed at having such a thought—she has rather attractive hands.

And, she's kind of cute, in a kick-ass, I-can-beat-the-snot-out-of-you-in-my-sleep kind of way.

It's kind of hard to hate some one when the first thing that comes to mind when you look at them is: _I know milk does a body good, but damn, how much have you been drinking?_ Not that I'd ever actually _say_ something like that.

"Don't I?" I respond.

"Nope," Yuffie continues, snatching a mug from beside the coffeemaker and shoving it into my hands.

"What's-" I start to ask what it is, but Yuffie interrupts.

"Shut up and drink."

I eye her skeptically over the rim of the mug. "If this thing is poisoned, I'm coming back to haunt you."

"It's not." Yuffie says levelly.

I take a sip, and the thick, sweet liquid washes over my tongue, soothing my burns instead of aggravating them.

It's good.

Very good.

In fact, it's borderline delicious.

The stuff is clearly made from a chocolate base, with a hint of peppermint, notes of raw cocoa, and sweet bursts of marshmallow.

"You're right; this blows coffee out of the water. What _is_ this stuff?"

"Hot chocolate," Yuffie replies proudly. "Made from scratch."

"Very impressive, Yuffie." Have to give credit where credit is due... "I never figured you for the cooking type." I confess.

"I'm not. Or, I wasn't." Yuffie responds cryptically.

_That_ makes a whole lot of sense. "Meaning?"

Yuffie sighs. "Look, I'm not the type of girl who gets all sentimental about her past and shit, but for some _strange_ reason, I feel like I can trust you. I promise you this though: if you tell anyone what I'm about to tell you, I'll castrate you with a rusty spoon."

I can feel the blood draining from my face, and I put a hand over my heart, raising my right hand in oath. "I won't breathe a word. Keyblade Wielder's honor."

Yuffie gives me this long, unsettling stare, like she's looking into my soul for any hint of dishonesty. "It helps with the nightmares." she says after a long moment.

"You too, huh?"

"Ever since _they_ came, I've had to step my game up. Sure, I talk about being 'The Great Ninja Yuffie', but up until recently, I never actually had to _do_ anything about it. I learned ninjitsu for sport, you know, I'm sort of hyperactive and I needed an outlet."

"So, what happened?"

"Well, those _things_ showed up and all hell broke loose. This is primarily a merchant world, most of the people here don't have any fighting skills at all. So Leon and I had to step up and start kicking ass." Yuffie continues.

I snicker a little at that—it's hard to imagine her doing any ass-kicking in her pjs.

"Don't laugh, I'm very skilled in the ways of ass-kickery. Want me to show you?" Yuffie growls, like she's offended.

"Go on," I bite my lip and clamp down on my laughter.

"Anyway, it didn't take us long to figure out that these guys are human. And, contrary to popular belief, I'd never actually..._killed_ anyone before, well, a few weeks ago."

"Weeks?" I ask. "I was under the impression that this was a recent development."

"The first thing they tried to do was to try and help Maleficent set up shop here, so we were a little preoccupied. By the time we had enough breathing room to send out a message, they'd already sabotaged our communications, and they don't call it 'snail-mail' for nothing." Yuffie smirks a little at her own cleverness..

I nod.

"Anyway, I'd never...killed anyone. It's not something you can easily forget. Especially not considering that the smell of blood never really washes out of your clothes. I tried to justify it, to tell myself that I was doing it for a just cause, a good reason, and even though I knew it was true, it didn't stop the nightmares."

"What did you do?" The question isn't really necessary, but I ask anyway.

"I stopped sleeping." Yuffie answers simply. "It worked for a while, until I got sloppy in a fight..." Yuffie flips her left hand over, revealing a thin pink line of scar tissue that runs from the outside of her wrist, just below her thumb, to the top of her arm, terminating just before her elbow. "And then I discovered hot chocolate, and the rest is history," Yuffie finishes, leaning back in her chair.

_What do you say to someone after a story like that? _"Wow..." I decide after a moment.

"Really?" Yuffie looks annoyed.

_Oops..._

"All you have to say is 'wow'?"

I chuckle. "'The Great Ninja Yuffie', the most badass ninja in all the worlds, devotes her evenings to making hot chocolate. Go figure." he smiled to show her he was teasing.

Yuffie glares back at me, but I can tell she's fighting a smile. "Shut up and finish your drink."

_*****SoH*****_

_**Sora**_

_Ow._

My entire body is an aching knot of overexerted muscles and exhaustion, and I'm sure the others aren't feeling much better.

Yen Sid's training session was pretty intense.

I roll my shoulders as I shuffle into the kitchen for a drink of water, and then Kairi's soft, slender hands are on me, kneading the stress out of the muscles with a delicate expertise.

"You're wonderful," I tell her, and mean it. _How in the worlds did I get lucky enough to end up with her?_

I can tell by the heat coming off her skin that she's blushing when she stands up on tiptoe to kiss my cheek.

"Aw, thanks Sora." Kairi wraps her arms around my middle and squeezes gently before stepping away. "I'm gonna go have a shower."

"Me too." Roxas agrees.

"Me three," Naminé's voice is almost a wheeze, and it's so quiet that I can barely hear her.

"Sora, a moment?" Yen Sid requests.

Kairi, Roxas, and Naminé are all looking at me expectantly, so I just give them a nod.

"I'll catch up to you guys in a bit." And then I turn to Yen Sid, wondering what he could possibly want with me. "Yes?"

"You did well today, Sora. However, I feel I should warn you about something before it gets you into trouble. Love is a powerful bond, one of the most powerful in all the worlds; but you must not allow your feelings for Kairi to cloud your judgement." Yen Sid warns

Anger and resentment spike in my chest.

So what if the man's power boggles the mind?

So what if the King trained under him?

_Yen Sid _hasn't risked life and limb to take on unspeakable evils that made grown men tremble in fear.

_Yen Sid_ hasn't scoured the cosmos for the his best friend, even after that friend had given in to the Darkness.

_Yen Sid_ hasn't given his own life to save the girl he loves.

_Yen Sid gave up._

So what business does this pietistic, washed-up, couldn't-hack-it have lecturing _me_ about love?

_None_.

The more I think about it, the angrier it makes me. The red hate-smoke of fury ripples through my limbs, demanding action.

"_Excuse me_?" The voice that comes from me, doesn't sound like mine at all.

It's harder.

Harsher.

Deadlier.

"I am simply asking you to be careful. Sometimes, when you care about someone, your decisions revolve around what's best for _them_ rather than what's best for _everyone_." Yen Sid replies carefully. He's fumbling now, nervous. Afraid.

"Are you questioning my ability to lead?" I demand, taking a step forward, finger stabbing for Yen Sid's chest before I can stop myself.

"No I-" the old wizard begins

"Because I didn't see _you_ out there." My hand slices through the air; Yen Sid flinches. "Where were _you, Master?_"

Yen Sid seems to be at a loss for words.

"That's what I thought. You're supposed to be the most powerful wizard in all the worlds...I suppose you didn't deem our cause _worthy_ enough to grace with your presence." The Oblivion is in my hand then and it's weight his comforting, the grip fits perfectly in my hand. My pulse roars in my ears, adrenaline snapping through my blood. "If you're so powerful, let's see how you fare against _me_."

"This is exactly what I was talking about." Yen Sid responds, his voice trembling just a touch..

Something snaps in me then.

Before I have time to think about what I'm doing, I'm leaping across the room, blade poised to deliver a devastating hack.

Yen Sid calmly moves out of the way. "Do not test me, boy."

Still condescending.

Still pompus.

"_Shut up!_" I'm on him again in a flurry of blows; the old man is a blur as he avoids each one.

"I'm going to have to separate you from Kairi if this is how she affects you." Yen Sid threatens.

"Try it, old man. See if you're still breathing when I'm done with you." Rage swells in me again, twisting, growing, changing, guiding my hands with unparallelled skill and finesse. The fury burns the back of my throat with the taste of hot bile and bitter memories.

Yen Sid's backing away now_. "Sora!_ _Control yourself!_"

There's fear in his voice.

Panic.

Maybe I've finally gotten through to him.

And then I catch sight of my reflection in the chrome plating of the refrigerator.

My eyes are yellow.

_No, no, no! _

And then come the voice. The horrible, bone-chilling tones of _him_, the beast within me, made from the stuff that makes nightmares cower.

_**Hello, Sora.**_

___No..._

And then, everything goes black as the suffocating darkness closes in on me.

**Hit? Miss? Review and let me know what you think!**

**See you next chapter!**

**~Script**


	6. A Contest of Wills

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed/favorited/followed this story, your support means a lot!**

**On with the show!**

_**Chapter VI: A Contest of Wills**_

_**Kairi**_

__Hair, check.

Teeth, check.

Dress, check.

After one last look in the mirror, I head down the hallway to look for Sora.

Even though I'll deny it if Sora ever points out the fact that I take forever to get ready, the fact of the matter is, it's the truth. If there's anything I'm OCD about, it's making sure that I look my best, especially in the presence of a king.

But, given the fact that I know I've been primping for at least an hour, and I _still _haven't seen Sora, I figure it's time to go check on him. I know we're safe here, that the Cornerstone of Light protects Disney Castle from the Darkness.

I also know that as a Princess of Heart, the Darkness cannot claim my heart.

Still, the godsawful racket coming from the kitchen worries me. I try to tell myself that I'm being oversensitive, that Yen Sid's probably just teaching Sora an advanced magic technique. Still, I can't help but wonder: _What is Sora up to now?_

I pause at the threshold to the kitchen, my breath leaves me in a hot gust.

Some_thing_ is in the kitchen.

It's pitch black except for the glowing yellow eyes, sinewy, muscular, and it also bears an unsettling resemblance to Sora. There's a deadly looking Keyblade in his hands; it's broad, wicked and all edges.

The frigid hands of fear lock my feet in place, steal the starch from my knees and the breath from my lungs.

"Kairi, stay back!" Yen Sid warns, the harsh rasp of panic catching in his throat.

"What's going on?" I have to shout to make myself heard, Yen Sid slips a blow from the wicked-looking Keyblade in the creature's hands.

"Do you remember when Sora sacrificed himself so you could have your heart back?" Yen Sid is surprisingly nimble for an old man, effortlessly dodging a vicious hack.

"How could I forget?" I don't have a first-hand memory of the event—I was unconscious at the time—but Donald, and Goofy have told the story so many times that I feel like I must have been there.

"Well, when he sacrificed his heart so you could have yours, he became a Heartless. While it's true you brought him back, the darkness in his heart never really went away. Sometimes-" Yen Sid pauses, leaping out of the way as the creature's blade comes down in a vicious hack, rending the stove in two with a piercing shriek of tortured metal and a fountain of sparks.

Too late, I realize I have to shield my eyes from the resulting explosion, and by the time my vision clears and my ears stop ringing, the creature drives Yen Sid into the counter with a brutal right cross.

Yen Sid is surprisingly nimble for an old man, and he ducks under a swing that could've taken his head off before continuing his explanation. "Sometimes, when he's angry or in a physically or mentally weakened state, his alternate personality, his _Anti-Form_ if you will, takes control of him."

Realization coils in the pit of my stomach, twisting and compressing my guts into a tight ball of anxiety. _I'm losing him..._

The reality of this fact makes me queasy, and the cold hands of dread are back, holding me immobile as Yen Sid pays for my lapse in in blood

Anti's movements are swift, efficient and savage and he's landed blows to Yen Sid's abdomen, throat and face before I have time to blink.

Yen Sid is dazed; he slumps against the counter, his left eye is rapidly swelling shut and he's coughing and wheezing, looking more and more like the old man that he is.

Destiny's Embrace is in my hand before I have time to think about it, and then everything's happening at once.

Anti's arm is cocked back to deliver a devastating blow that will open Yen Sid up from crown to groin.

Anti Sora is a living weapon.

His strength, speed and savagery are unrivaled.

His finesse and skill with his blade are equal to, if not better than Sora's.

There is no doubt in my mind that he could kill me.

And yet...

Sora, _my_ Sora is still in there somewhere.

If I can get through to him, I _might_ make it out of this alive.

Maybe.

All this flashes through my brain in the half-second it takes me to leap across the room to intercept the blow.

Anti's blade crashes into mine with the force of a meteor strike.

My elbows buckled under the blow—gods he's strong—and Anti almost succeeds in driving my own Keyblade back into my face. Shockwaves from the impact ripple through my body, twisting through my bones and reverberating up into my teeth, and I have to take a step back so my knees don't collapse under the blow.

I shove back against Anti's weapon, and for a moment, an unstoppable force meets an immoveable object, and we reach an impasse. I stare back at Anti through the cross of our blades, searching for a hint of Sora behind his burning yellow eyes.

There's a flash of it, the barest glimmer of his will in the softening of Anti's gaze, and I seize my opportunity.

"Sora, if you can hear me, I need you to fight this. You're stronger than this, love. You can do it." I'm ordering and pleading and crying all at the same time, desperate and angry and hurt and scared.

And, just like that, the moment's past, and Anti is shoving me back into the cabinets.

Hard.

There's a burst of blood in my mouth as my head connects with the wood, and I drop to a knee, powerless against Anti's inexorable advance—his blade gouges a sizeable chunk of wood out of the stained wood in the space where my head used to be.

I spit blood out onto the tile, diving out of the way of Anti's rising hack that sweeps up from the floor, spraying bits of tile into my face.

He's on me now, the deadly steel of his blade weaving and slashing and hacking and singing in this intricate chaos that is our battle.

I'm keeping up with him out of reflex and dumb luck, hoping and praying that the fact that Anti hasn't killed me yet means that Sora is winning the battle for control of himself.

But I'm tired.

Spent.

Strung-out.

And, when every second I'm on my feat is a small phenomenon, and I can only string so many together in a row before my luck runs out.

I lean back, too slow, and take a blow across the forehead. Almost immediately, sticky crimson rivulets are running into my eyes, blurring my vision and slowing me down. I smear the blood out of my eyes with the back of my hand, barely moving in time to avoid the vicious overhand that's about to crush my skull.

Anti's strength is waning too, he falters and I slip his blow, and then, my blade is at his throat.

My throat is impossibly dry and tight and I can barely speak past the lump there as the realization of what I have to do to _really _stop Anti sinks in.

"Don't make me do this, Sora." I beg, pleading with every shred of willpower I possess that somehow, Sora will come to his senses.

There's another flicker, and Anti's Keyblade clatters to the floor from his limp fingers, his eyes shift back to the familiar deep blue that I know and love, and the obsidian tones on his skin slowly melt away to reveal an exhausted-looking Sora.

Sora's covered in a thin sheen of sweat all over, his eyes glassy and unfocused, and he looks like he can't decide whether to cry or throw up. He's swaying on his feet, dazed and disconnected from reality.

But, even though he looks like death, he's back.

That's all that really matters in my book.

_Thank gods..._I'm kissing him before I realize what's happening, hard and rough and savage and desperate, so happy to have him back. My fingers are all over him too, caressing his face, tangling in his hair...

My lips get creative then, moving along the hard line of his jaw so I can whisper: "I love you," against the shell of his ear.

Sora stiffens and pulls away, too soon. His eyes flicker up to the gash on my forehead, and then to the floor. His lips press together in a grim, pale line and he shifts away, stricken. "I'm sorry Kairi." he says quietly.

I can't let him do this to himself, can't let him take the blame for something that he had no control over. "You have nothing to apologize for; I know you would never do anything like that on purpose." My fingers stroke his cheek, and I find myself hoping that my touch will help ease his pain.

Sora's lips twitch, but he doesn't smile, his eyes harder than diamonds as he glares at Yen Sid.

"You just couldn't leave well enough alone, could you?" he snarls.

"I did not realize the extent of your attachment to the princess, my boy. Had I known the seriousness of your relationship, I wouldn't have said anything. Please try to understand: I have seen what happens when young people allow lust rather than reason to rule there actions. I was only trying to make sure you understood the risks." Yen Sid's fumbling now, trying to save face.

While I'll admit he has a point, his sanctimoniously, all-knowing delivery is irritating, especially considering what Sora's just been through. Before I can speak up to defend him though, he snaps back with a comeback of his own.

"Perhaps if you had listened to me, rather than relying on your own faulty wisdom and kept your self-righteous, ill-mannered, and unnecessary opinions out of matters that have nothing to do with you in the first place, this debacle could have been avoided." Sora snarls, and the hard edge in his voice unnerves me.

It's cold.

Unwavering.

It's so full of malice and scorn, and barely tempered violence that I'm almost tempted to take a step away from him out of sheer self-preservation instincts.

"Stay your tongue, Wielder. Hubris does not become you." Yen Sid replies firmly, trying to wrestle control of the situation back from Sora.

To be honest, I don't think he can do it. The smile that peels Sora's lips away from his teeth is almost predatory; he's in control and he knows it.

"Are you seriously trying to pull rank right now? Do you have any _clue_ how easily I could've killed you if Kairi hadn't showed up and saved your ass?" Sora gestures to the angry red slash on my forehead, and I'm suddenly very self-conscious about the injury. "This is _your_ fault. And unless you would like to test your skill once more, I suggest you _choose_ your next words carefully." Sora growls.

"Stop it, Sora, you're scaring me." I admit. I've never heard him talk like this, never heard him this..._murderous_...not even when Riku had baited him into loosing his temper as a kid.

Sora lets out a long sigh. "Forgive me, Master. I had forgotten my place."

Yen Sid just waves it off. "All is forgiven, young one. I trust you will be more mindful of your tongue in the future; but that is a discussion for another time. For now, I believe I might be able to help you." the old wizard brings his hands together, and I wonder for a moment,what he's up to.

There's a flash of light, and when Yen Sid opens his hands there's a crown pendant and a ring nestled in his open palm.

"These enchanted items will aid you in your travels. They will greatly enhance your strength and magical abilities, as well as allow you to locate each other should you ever become separated." Yen Sid explains as he passes the trinkets to us.

"Your ring also has other powers, Kairi. It will allow you to use your light in extraordinary ways should you ever find yourself in dire straits. The two of you are dismissed; training will resume tomorrow morning."

Sora is the first to make a move, swapping his old crown necklace out for the new one. "Thanks," he says without feeling.

I slide the ring onto my left middle finger, surprised to find that it fits perfectly. "Thank you, Master."

I follow Sora out of the kitchen, pausing when he slumps against the wall. He slides down into a sitting position, his head in his hands.

I reach out to touch him, hold him, so he knows everything is okay.

Sora's sweating and trembling and looks as though he could pass out at any moment. His breath comes in short, sharp ragged gasps and he's refusing to look at me.

I can tell from the rigidness from his posture and the crease in his brow that he's withdrawing into himself, taking all the blame for something beyond his control.

I reach up to stroke his cheek, slow and soft. _Don't do this to yourself, Sora._

Sora flinches, a sharp, spastic jerk that startles me with its suddenness. "I'm sorry," he mumbles. "So, so sorry."

"It's okay," I tell him automatically.

"I just...I was so angry...And by the time I realized what was happening, it was too late to stop him."

I lean into his chest and hug him, because that's what he needs—what_ we_ need—and wait for him to continue.

Sora wraps an arm around me, his hand on the small of my back, but he doesn't squeeze, there's a detachment in the gesture, a poignant distance that I _hate_, and if he wasn't so beat-up, I'd smack him.

I curl into him, and then he pulls me closer, and he's not trembling so much.

We stay like that for a moment, and while he's holding me, I can almost believe that the universe isn't quite such a horrible place, because with him, there _is _no universe.

It's just _us_.

"I'm afraid, Kairi." Sora admits after a moment. "Being controlled by him...it's awful, like watching the worst kind of horror movie you can imagine. His mind is so _twisted_; I can't believe he's a part of me...What if the next time he gets control is worse? What if he hurts you again?"

He's shutting down again, and I won't let that happen. I put my finger against his lips. "Shh. Don't talk like that. You have a strong heart, Sora, you're stronger than he is. He can't take control of you if you don't let him."

Sora laughs then, and it's a humorless noise. "I wish I was so sure. If it wasn't for your light..."

I'm starting to get annoyed at Sora's stubbornness and determination to be miserable. "It'll be okay. As long as I'm with you, it'll be harder for him to take control, right?"

Sora nods and his expression lifts a little. "It seems that way. It was easier for me to fight him when you got there."

I smile up at him, a real, genuine smile at the thought that I can help him through this. "Then I won't leave you. As long as we're together, he doesn't stand a chance."

Sora smiles back, not his megawatt grin, but it's a start. "Thanks, Kairi."

I kiss him then, just a quick peck, and then I fix him with a serious stare. "We do need to talk though,"

Sora tenses. "What about?"

Better to just level with him than to beat around the bush. "About what Yen Sid said to you. I love you more than anything in the all the worlds, and I feel so incredibly lucky to have you by my side. I know you'll take care of me no matter what. But I think you missed Yen Sid's point. He wasn't questioning your ability as a leader or anything like that, he was just saying 'be careful'."

Sora's quiet for a moment, thinking, and then he sighs. "I know. I just...I can't lose you Kairi. _I can't_."

I take his face in my hands; his tortured expression is almost too much to bear, so I crush my lips to his fervently, ardently, so he knows I'm not going anywhere.

"I couldn't bear it if I lost you either, Sora." I tell him after we've come up for air. "But I need you to promise me that you'll try to control yourself better in the future. I know it's hard; I can't imagine the amount of stress you must be under with everyone looking to you as their savior. That being said, you can't go postal whenever someone says that you have to buckle down and think about the big picture, alright?"

Sora nods. "Anything for you, Kai. I promise."

_*****SoH*****_

_**Riku**_

I wake up in a puddle of something that feels suspiciously like drool. I crack my eyes open and pull away from the table, wiping away the mucosal strand of spittle that runs from my chin to the table top with the back of my hand.

Apparently, I drool in my sleep.

_Nice._

Even though I want to ignore it, part of me is hoping that Yuffie hasn't noticed that particular fact.

I glance in her direction, mildly embarrassed, but Yuffie's down for the count, head on her arms, breathing steadily.

Not that I blame her.

That was the most incredible night's—if you can call the stretch from four to eight in the morning a night—sleep I've had in a while.

"Rise and shine, lovebirds!" Leon sweeps into the room, a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he pours himself a cup of coffee.

"Bite me, Squall." Yuffie grumbles, lifting her head off the table and yawning. Her hair is mussed from sleeping on the table, sticking up in every possible direction—she looks kind of cute like that...

Leon chuckles and snatches his newspaper off the counter, taking it and his coffee into the next room.

Yuffie scrubs at her eyes with the heels of her hands and looks at me. "Did you sleep alright?" she asks, unable to completely remove the tired rasp from her voice.

I have to think for a moment, the last thing I remember before waking up in a puddle of my own saliva is finishing Yuffie's hot chocolate; and that means the rest of my night's sleep was nightmare-free.

That's a plus in my book.

"Yeah. You?" I answer.

Yuffie nods. "Me too." She gets up and shuffles sleepily over to the fridge, gathering ingredients to make hot chocolate, if the milk and chocolate syrup are any indication. "Any bad dreams?"

My joints pop and crack as I get out of the chair. "None that I recall," I might be young, but my body does not appreciate being made to sleep in a chair for four hours. I roll my shoulders to try and alleviate some of the stiffness.

Ow.

"Me neither." Yuffie continues, standing on tiptoe to try and reach the stack of bowls on the top shelf of the cabinet she's currently rummaging in.

I move to help her—she's too short to reach the top, and has resorted to swatting at the stack, and even if she does reach it, she'll bring the entire stack of bowls down on her head. It's a breeze for me to reach it, since I'm almost a foot taller than her, but Yuffie doesn't seem to appreciate my help.

"I could've gotten it." She says indignantly; her expression is somewhere between glaring daggers and pouting.

I smirk, unable resist the jibe: "I'm sure you could have, but then you would have brought the whole stack down on your head, and I wouldn't want you to lose anymore brain cells."

Yuffie's fist whips out and slugs me in the shoulder—she really_ does_ deserve her title of 'Great Ninja'-I'm gonna have a nasty bruise later.

"That's it! No hot chocolate for you, jackass." She stomps across the kitchen and starts mixing ingredients angrily.

I can live without the stuff, sure, but now that I've tasted it, I'm addicted. I follow her and turn on the charm, hitting her with my trademark half smile, the one that made all the girls swoon back on Destiny Islands.

"I don't suppose you'd reconsider if I said 'please'?" I'm laying it on thick now.

Yuffie rolls her eyes and nudges me with her hip. "Fine, you're off the hook this time. Next time you're on your own."

It's nice, this companionship—when we first met, I was sure we'd end up killing each other, but we haven't...yet.

We've just sat down to enjoy our drinks when a man in blue robes and a pointy hat bustles into the room. He doesn't waste any time with greetings, he just drags us out of our chairs. "Come with me!"

"Where's the fire, Merlin?" Yuffie wonders, taking a long pull from her mug as Merlin jerks her out of her chair. The white ceramic mug twirls and totters precariously for a moment before settling into a more stable position on the table.

"Will someone please explain what the hell is going on?" I wonder as Merlin pushes me toward the door.

"Something terrible has happened at the Palace!" Merlin wheezes. "I don't have time to explain, just get there as fast as you can!" he shoves me toward the door again.

"Well, if we're going to go kick ass and take names, don't you think we should get dressed first?" I, for one, am not planning on fighting the forces of evil in my pajamas.

Merlin just stares at me like I've grown a second head. "Of _course_ you should! Just_ hurry_!"

I rush back to my room and throw on some clothes, and then I meet Yuffie by the door; she's practically vibrating with pent-up energy.

"Ready?" Yuffie asks, all traces of lethargy gone from her face.

"Sure."

At that, Yuffie sprints out the door. "Last one there washes dishes after dinner!" she calls over her shoulder, and I take off after her.

We trade the lead more times than I can keep track of, but all of our teasing stops immediately after we arrive.

The Palace courtyard is packed with people, all of them pushing and shoving and craning their necks to try and catch a glimpse of the Palace balcony in the distance.

There's no way we're getting through there.

Yuffie tugs on my shirt sleeve and presses a finger to her lips, motioning to a fire escape in a nearby alleyway.

_That could work._

We scale the fire escape, and once we've gained the rooftop, and a better vantage point, Yuffie lays the scene out for me in grim detail.

"Those guys are the Radiant Garden Security Corps...What are they doing here?" she says, motioning to the armor-clad men with spears standing between the citizens and the Dark Wielders at the gate.

I shrug, her guess is as good as mine. My fingers dig into the concrete edge of the building's roof as I lean over to get a better look.

One thing is for sure: everyone is focused on the Palace balcony overlooking the courtyard.

"Oh, gods..." Yuffie breathes, pointing.

"What's wrong?" The question owes as much to reflex as it does to general curiosity. I follow her finger. "Shit."

Maleficent is standing on the balcony, surrounded by well dressed people.

"Who are those guys?"

"That's the Head of State and his Council, and the Commander-in-Chief of the RGSC." Yuffie explains, pointing them out as she names them.

"We will not bow to you, Maleficent!" the Head of State bellows, all defiance and courage. "We are a free people!"

"Is that so?" Maleficent sneers, dark and sinister. "And what would you be willing to give for your freedom, I wonder?

"You'll have nothing from me, witch!" the Head of State snaps, and it's obvious that he doesn't realize just how in-over-his-head he is.

Maleficent leers at the rest of the officials. "What about the rest of you?"

"We stand with him," the officials chorus.

Dread curdles in my gut. I admire their courage, but Maleficent doesn't take kindly to being defied.

Darkness curls around the Head of State, a sick and twisted entity, and Maleficent shoves him over the edge of the balcony. The man jerks to a halt as tendrils of malevolent energy snarl around his throat, snapping his neck like a dry twig.

"Oh..." Yuffie moans. She pales and looks away, sickened.

I have to choke back the bile in my own throat, at the sight of the Head of State dangling from a thick coil of manifest hatred, but I force myself to stay alert.

Maleficent snaps her fingers and there's a burst of blinding green flame, and then the rest of the official collapse onto the balcony in a charred and mangled heap, barely recognizeable as having been human.

My stomach rolls, and I have to look away.

Yuffie heaves, and her vomit splatters onto the rooftop. "Sorry," she groans.

"S'okay. You alright?" I ask.

Yuffie nods and points back toward the grim spectacle.

"Citizens of Radiant Garden," Maleficent sneers. "Bow before your new Empress!" Her voice shifts into a more benevolent timbre. "Unless any of you object..."

The men of the Radiant Garden Security Corps snap into ranks instantly.

The one with the most decorative helm—probably the leader—raised his spear. "To arms, brothers! Protect your families! Defend your City!"

Maleficent laughs, a cold and vicious sound that reverberates through my bones. "Your courage is admirable. If a valiant death is what you wish, you shall have your fill." she motions to the Dark Wielders at the gate. "Kill them."

**Thoughts? Comments? Concerns? Review!**

**See you next chapter!**

**~Script**


	7. The Sacking of Radiant Garden

**Disclaimer: No.**

**A huge thank-you goes out to everyone who has reviewed/favorited this story, your support has been amazing! It really means a lot to me to know that you all are enjoying the story so far.**

**On with the show!**

_**Chapter VII: The Sacking of Radiant Garden**_

_**Riku**_

There's blood everywhere.

The sickly-sweet, coppery tang of it is inescapable.

It's in my nose, turning my stomach almost as effectively as the sight of it pooling on the flagstones of the courtyard, and I have to force the bile back down my throat. I grimace at the bitter, acidic aftertaste.

War, I decide, is not glorious.

It's not valiant, or romantic, or heroic.

It's ugly.

Plain and simple.

No amount of romanticizing or emphatic embellishment around the dinner table will be able to erase the faces of the dead and dying from my mind. The grim spectacle of the bodies lying in pools of crimson, the mangled, hacked, and twisted heaps of corpses and severed limbs isn't something I can just _forget_.

It's enough to give me night-terrors for a lifetime.

The screams are the worst, though.

The primal, guttural noises tear from the throats of the men, women, and children left to Maleficent's mercy, varying in tenor and duration, but they're all saying the same thing:

_Save me!_

Sweat drips into my eyes as I tear across the battlefield, cutting a swath through the Armored Knight Heartless terrorizing the citizens.

One of the Dark wielders looms over a cluster of terrified citizens, his wicked blade poised to cut them down like the rest of the mangled bodies that litter the courtyard.

I don't give myself a chance to hesitate, throwing Way to the Dawn into the path of his strike.

The strength of the blow is incredible.

I plant myself in front of the group of citizens, blade wheeling, shockwaves rippling up my arms as he hammers away at my defenses. His gauntlet belts me across the face and I go down, blood and spit splattering onto the flagstones.

The world is a disjointed blur, my head is swimming and I barely manage to having my skull crushed by his next blow. The next salvo is fast and furious, one-two-three, and my ears are ringing from the thunderous grating of blade-on-blade as I fight my way back to my knees. I drive Way to the Dawn's sharp point into his foot when he overextends and then follow-up with a blow to his exposed neck.

My stomach churns at the reality of what I'm about to do, but I can't afford to be merciful here.

The grim reality of battle boils down to one fundamental truth in that moment: _him or me_.

I pick me.

The wielder's head clatters to the ground in a spray of gore, and the citizens' thank-you is swallowed up by the din of warfare.

I'm exhausted, my arms leaden and unresponsive.

How long has it been since the fighting started?

Minutes?

Hours?

_Days_?

I can't tell anymore, and to be honest, it doesn't really matter, because we're hopelessly outmatched and overpowered.

The battle wears on, and as I scramble over the blood-soaked flagstones of the courtyard, I catch glimpses of Merlin and Leon, and I end up back-to-back with Yuffie for a while, but in the back of my mind, I know that we're only delaying the inevitable.

The Radiant Garden Security Corps, despite their valiant efforts, are hopelessly overmatched by Malefeicent's forces, and they're turned into heartless. Slowly, painfully, savagely; Malefiecent's cruelty cannot be overstated.

_Time to go_...I grab Yuffie's arm and start backing toward the entrance to the courtyard.

Merlin sees what I'm doing and makes his way over to us, but Leon's still caught up in the thick of things.

"What the hell are you doing? Let go of me, dammit!" Yuffie snarls, her voice hard with bloodlust and battle-rage.

I ignore her and keep pushing through the panicked crowd.

_Save as many as you can,_ the king's voice drifts back to me from another life, and as much as I want to save everyone here, I have to think of the bigger picture—I won't be of any use to anyone if I'm dead.

"Leon! Come on, we have to get out of here!" I shout.

Leon turns and looks at me, long and hard. And then he nods once.

And I get it.

His nod isn't an acknowledgment; it's a farewell.

_Take care of Yuffie, _he's saying.

And I can tell from the expression on his face that he's not going to discuss his decision.

As much as I don't like it, I don't have time to argue with him. So, I nod back.

_I will._

Leon squares his shoulders and points his massive Gunblade at Maleficent. "Is that all you got bitch?" he sneers. His voice is slow, mocking. Cocky even.

Maleficent stares down at Leon; as one, the remaining Heartless in the courtyard turn to look at Leon as well.

"Your impudence offends me, peon. Minions, destroy him." Maleficent's voice carries a cold note finality.

The Heartless converge on Leon in a rush, their terrible screeching splitting the air.

The surviving citizens seize their opportunity and flock toward the entrance, pushing Merlin, Yuffie, and I back toward the massive entrance gates.

I can barely see Leon through the crush of people surrounding us, so I have to settle for breif, disjointed glances.

The lone remaining Dark wielder leaps into the fray. His first blow misses, taking a chunk out of the rock at his feet.

Leon backpedals, too slow, and the wielder's blade rips open his side with a spray of gore, eliciting a howl of agony from the wounded man.

My stomach clenches, and it takes every iota of discipline I can muster to keep from charging back into the fray.

Yuffie's certainly not making it any easier...

"_Leon_!" Her voice is raw, and she's jerking and twisting and squirming, trying to get out of my grip.

I tighten my grip—I know it must hurt her, but I can't let Leon's sacrifice be in vain.

_Take care of Yuffie._

A grim smile is etched across Leon's face as he clambers back to his feet, brandishing his blade.

The throng of people surges toward the gates, sweeping us up and blocking my view of the battle. I let them take us and the crowd sweeps us out of the courtyard like a flush of water. When they've finally dispersed, the wielder is holding Leon up by the hair.

"_No!_" Yuffie's shout is an almost defeated sound—there's nothing she can do, and she knows it.

Leon smiles, a warm and caring smile, and he winks at her.

And then the wielder draws his Keyblade across Leon's throat, and the man's lifeblood gushes out onto the flagstones.

Yuffie stares at the spreading crimson pool, stone-faced. Her expression is blank, unreadable, empty.

Then she whirls and slams her fist into my nose.

The pain is incredible, and it takes every ounce of concentration in me to keep a hold on her—and that was probably her intention in the first place.

She's pulling now, desperate and angry, swept up in the full-fledged fury of vengeance and bloodlust. "Let go of me, you bastard! Let me help him!"

The blood's soaking into my shirt now, warm and sticky as I jerk Yuffie away. "There's nothing you can do for him, Yuffie!" I tell her, trying to be gentle as I pull her along; with their primary objective completed, the Heartless have turned their attention back to us.

The dark-haired ninja's gone completely rigid now—whether from shock, or grief, or anger, I can't tell.

"Yuffie listen to me: there's nothing you can do for him now. Getting yourself killed won't help anyone. Leon sacrificed himself so that we could escape; you don't want him to have died for nothing do you?" I need her to understand this, because if we stand here for much longer, the Heartless are going to catch up to us.

Yuffie whirls and presses her face into my chest. "_Damn you!_"

Fine.

Let her blame me.

I'll deal with that if we live.

I sling her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and haul ass back through the city. It's a tough slog—the pedestrians knocked over all sorts of vendor stalls and such, and hurdling over them isn't exactly easy to do with Yuffie on my back.

Apparently, the fight hasn't gone out of her completely, because as soon as her feet leave the ground, she's wailing on my back with sharp, painful blows.

I risk a glance over my shoulder when the path opens up—the Heartless are right on top of us.

"Come on, Merlin, faster!" I urge, shoving the blue-robed wizard ahead of me.

_We're not out of this yet..._

_*****SoH*****_

_**Naminé**_

I can't sleep.

No amount of tossing or turning has made me feel anymore restful than when I first laid down to sleep.

It isn't for lack of exhaustion—Yen Sid spent the day training Roxas, Kairi, Sora, and I in the ancient martial art of _Nex Manuum._

From what I gathered, it was taught to the Keybearers of old so that, in the event that their Keyblade was taken or destroyed in battle, they wouldn't be completely defenseless.

At least, that's what he said.

Learning the art felt more like being beaten up than anything else.

Despite the fact that I have _no_ combat experience whatsoever, aside from a few hours' training, Yen Sid has decided that I'm ready to go to Twilight Town with Roxas and liberate its citizens from the Dark wielders Maleficent has released.

I don't know what could possibly make him think that I'm ready for such an assignment—especially not considering the fact that Roxas has considerably more battle experience than I do—but it's too late to do anything about it now.

I mean, on a positive note, at least I get to visit Twilight Town again; When I was there with DiZ, I didn't really have a chance to do any sightseeing.

And now that it's time to go back, it's only so Roxas and I can save the day.

It's not like I don't feel like helping people in need isn't a noble cause—it isn't that at all.

It's just...

Maleficent is ruining _everything! _I finally have a chance to _live_ which is a miracle in itself—and now that I have a life, I'm risking it for people I don't even know, all because of what Maleficent has done.

Maleficent.

Just the sound of her name sucks the starch from my knees and the will from my limbs—two days of training isn't nearly enough to prepare me to face the Heartless, the Nobodies, _and_ the Dark wielders, not to mention the Queen of Darkness herself.

_How do Riku and Sora do this?_

They make it seem so effortless...but then again, they've done this whole saving-the-worlds-and-protecting-Life-As-We-Know-It thing twice before—it's nothing new to them.

But me?

In all honesty, all I want to do is curl up in a ball and sleep until this is all over.

I'm an artist, not a fighter. I'd much rather have crayons and an easel as my tools of the trade, instead of Keyblades and bloodlust.

I groan and shove the covers off of me, jamming my feet into my slippers and shrugging my robe on over my pjs. I have no idea where I'm going to go, but if I have to stay in this room for a minute longer, I'm going to lose my mind.

I wander the hallways until I end up at Roxas' door.

I knock softly, my teeth sawing into my bottom lip as I wait for him to respond. My heart hammers against my ribcage.

_What am I doing here?_

Roxas pulls the door open slowly, smearing sleep from his eyes with his other hand. "Namine? What's wrong?" he asks, dragging a hand through his sleep-mussed tufts of blonde hair.

I could drown in his eyes right now. They're so _blue_ and deep and full of concern. And then, while I'm busy being enthralled by the beauty of his eyes, his question registers with my brain, and I realize that my silence could be considered rude, especially at this late hour.

"I um...I couldn't sleep." I confess, and it sounds even more pathetic out loud. My face burns with shame.

Roxas pokes his head out the door to check the hallway before pulling me into his room. He flicks on the light and I wince as my eyes adjust.

"What's on your mind?" Roxas pulls the chair out from his desk and sits down on it backwards.

"I..." My teeth are attempting to mutilate my bottom lip again. Why, of all people I could've gone to, why did I pick _him_? It's bad enough that I can't be brave like Kairi—who, in the most unusual way you could possibly imagine, gave me life—and now, here I am, burdening Roxas with my problems.

"You know what? Forget it. Sorry for bothering you." I tell Roxas, turning to leave as embarrassed tears surge in my eyes—I don't want him to see me cry.

"It's okay Naminé, really." Roxas says, and his hand finds my shoulder, all warmth and comfort and stability.

_Right. That's why I picked him._

He turns me around, slow and tender, but I can't bring myself to look at him.

"Tell me what's wrong," Roxas' voice is just as gentle as his touch.

"I'm just...really worried about tomorrow." I confess, hating my own weakness, wishing I could be brave like Kairi, or Sora, or Riku, or Roxas. The tears are spilling over now, fast and hot and furious.

"Naminé?" Roxas sounds worried; he tilts my chin up so I have to look at him and wipes my tears away with his thumbs.

And then, I'm bawling into his chest, and my words are tumbling out faster than I can pull myself together. "I'm sorry." I tell him, trying to rein in the tears, but it's no use. Now that they've started, they aren't going to stop for the forseeable future. "I'm just really nervous, and I know you must be nervous too, and my being here isn't helping, and I'm really sorr—"

Roxas pulls me close, his gentle embrace is the best kind of comfort in all the worlds. "Shh," he whispers, stroking my hair. "It's okay."

For reasons I can't even begin to fathom, his calm reassurances only make me cry harder and I hold onto him even tighter, afraid that I might fall apart without him.

I'm such a mess...

After what feels like forever, I pull back, spent. My cheeks are sticky with salt residue, and, as if crying all over Roxas wasn't embarrassing enough, my face burns even hotter when I realize that I must look like a train wreck. "Thank you."

I need better words. 'Thank you' seems so woefully inadequate in the face of Roxas' selflessness, but they're the best I can come up with.

Roxas leans closer and presses his lips against my forehead. "Don't mention it." he starts to pull away.

I'm not sure whether I'm high from his kiss, or just not quite ready to let him go, but whatever the reason, my mouth starts moving without my permission again. "Don't go!" it comes out more like I'm begging than a quiet request.

_That's_ embarrassing...

And then, if that isn't bad enough, my stupid hormones, and my stupid insecurities have me pulling him closer. I try making up a feeble excuse to dispel any awkward feelings at my sudden clinginess, but it's the truth that ends up coming out.

"I don't want to be alone."

_Shut up, Naminé!_

Roxas smiles softly. "I'm not going anywhere, Naminé, I promise."

I can breathe a little easier at that.

We lay down on his bed; Roxas turns the TV on and starts flipping through the channels. There's nothing good on this late at night, but the background noise is welcome. I curl up next to him and rest my head on his chest, too tired to really think about what I'm doing.

Roxas' scent, a pleasant mingling of steel and tangerine, is like aromatherapy, and before I know it, my eyelids are getting heavy.

"Hold me," I request. If I was more awake, I'd be absolutely mortified at the words that have just come out of my mouth, but right now, I'm too tired to care.

Roxas doesn't seem to mind either. He lifts me gently, positioning me on top of him so he can wrap his arms around me.

His embrace is comforting, but not restrictive.

I feel safe.

Warm.

Happy.

And then, I'm out.

**Thoughts? Comments? Review please!**

**See you next chapter!**

**~Script**


End file.
